ML  K.  WATBREOUSE. 


Portrait  of  Count  Castiglione,  by  Raphael. 


THE  ART  OF  THE 

ITALIAN  RENAISSANCE 

A  HANDBOOK  FOR 
STUDENTS  AND  TRAVELLERS 


FROM  THE    GERMAN  OF 

HEINRICH  WOLFFLIN 

Professor  of  Art  History  at  Berlin  University 


WITH  A  PREFATORY  NOTE  BY 

SIR  WALTER  ARMSTRONG 

Director  of  the  National  Gallery,  Dublin 


With  108  Illustrations 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 
NEW  YORK  ANP  LONDON 
tfbc  "Ikmcfterbocfter  press 


Made  in  the  United  States  of  America 


Dedicated 

TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

JAKOB  BURCKHARDT 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

In  this  interesting  treatise  a  German  writer  has 
made  an  attempt,  and  a  curiously  successful  one,  to 
deal  with  the  great  period  of  the  High  Renaissance  in 
Italy  from  a  somewhat  novel  point  of  view — that,  in 
fact,  of  the  craftsman  himself,  rather  than  that  of  the 
interpreter.  Passing  over  the  anecdotic  and  historical 
aspects  of  schools  and  periods,  he  has  made  a  syn- 
thetic study  of  that  completed  form  of  art  which  has 
been  described — mistakenly,  he  contends — as  a  return 
to  classic  ideals  brought  about  by  the  discovery  of 
antique  models.  He  has  confined  himself  for  purposes 
of  demonstration  to  the  works  of  the  great  masters  of 
Central  Italy.  The  book  is  of  modest  dimensions, 
and  its  author  does  not  claim  to  have  dealt  exhaust- 
ively with  his  vast  theme,  but  rather  to  be  one  of  the 
pioneers  in  a  field  that  has  been  strangely  neglected 
by  art-historians  and  the  newest  school  of  art-critics 
— the  field  of  pure  aesthetics.  Insisting  strongly  on 
the  necessity  of  systematic  work  on  this  fruitful 
ground,  Herr  Wolfflin  does  not  wander  haphazard 
among  the  artistic  phenomena  of  the  period.  The 
whole  question  of  color,  for  instance,  has  been  left  for 
future  consideration.  He  deals  here  with  problems 
of  form  alone.  From  this  point  of  view  he  has  given 
us  an  excellent  treatise  on  composition,  or  design,  to 
use  that  word  in  its  widest  sense,  dealing  chiefly  with 

v 


vi  Prefatory  Note 


the  character  and  action  of  figures,  and  the  pattern 
made  by  them.  The  result  is  a  trustworthy  guide  to 
the  minds  of  those  painters  who  belonged  to  the 
Schools  of  Florence  and  Rome — the  schools  of  pure 
design,  as  distinguished  from  those  which  placed  their 
chief  dependence  on  color  and  chiaroscuro.  Speaking 
broadly,  his  reasoning  is  the  unconscious  reasoning  of 
the  painter  put  into  words,  so  that  he  conveys  to  the 
reader  the  whys  and  wherefores  of  things  from  the 
artist's  own  standpoint.  Anyone  reading  Herr 
Wolfflin  carefully  may  fairly  assume  that  he  is  follow- 
ing the  workings  of  Raphael's  mind  as  he  built  up 
things  like  the  Disputa,  the  School  of  Athens,  and  the 
Madonna  di  San  Sis  to. 


Walter  Armstrong. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Introduction — Classic  Art  i 

part  I 

I. — Preliminary  Survey  ....  9 

II. — Leonardo   ......  34 

1.  The  Last  Supper  ....  38 

2.  The  Mona  Lisa    ....  47 

3.  St.  Anne  with  the  Virgin  and  the 

Infant  Christ    ....  53 

4.  The  Battle  of  Anghiari         .        .  57 

III.  — Michelangelo  (to  1520)    ...  63 

1 .  Early  Works       ....  64 

2.  The  Ceiling  of  the  Sistine  Chapel  .  82 

3.  The  Prophets  and  Sibyls     .        .  92 

4.  The  Slaves  97 

5.  The  Tomb  of  Julius      .        .  .105 

IV.  — Raphael  113 

1 .  The  Marriage  of  th  Virgin  and  the 

Entombment     .        .        .  .117 

2.  The  Florentine  Madonnas     .  .124 

vii 


viii  Contents 


IV. — Raphael  {Continued) 

3.  The  Camera  della  Segnatura  .  132 

The  Disputa     .        .        .  .135 

The  School  of  Athens         .  .  141 

Parnassus         .        .        .  .147 

Jurisprudence    .        .        .  .152 

4.  The  Camera  d'Eliodoro        .  154 

The  Chastisement  of  Heliodorus  .  154 

The  Deliverance  of  Peter    .  .  158 

The  Mass  of  Bolsena         .  .  161 

5.  The  Cartoons  for  the  Tapestries  .  165 

6.  The  Roman  Portraits  .        .  .181 

7.  Roman  Altar- Pictures  .        .  .  193 

V. — Fra  Bartolommeo     .       .       .  .211 

VI. — Andrea  del  Sarto    ....  233 

1.  The  Frescoes  of  the  Annunziata    .  234 

2.  The  Frescoes  of  the  Scalzo    .  .241 

3.  Madonnas  and  Saints  .        .        .  253 

4.  A  Portrait  of  Andrea    .        .  .266 

VII. — Michelangelo  (after  1520)       .       .  273 

1.  The  Chapel  of  the  Medici     .        .  273 

2.  The  Last  Judgment  and  the  Pauline 

Chapel  287 

3.  The  Decadence    .        .        .  .289 


Contents  ix 

PAGE 

PART  II 

I. — The  New  Feeling  ....  297 
II. — The  New  Beauty      ....  335 

III. — The  New  Pictorial  Form        .  .  370 

1.  Repose,  Space,  Mass,  and  Size  .  371 

2.  Simplification  and  Lucidity  .  .  377 

3.  Enrichment  .        .        .  -395 

4.  Unity  and  Inevitability  .  .414 

Index  431 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Portrait  of  Count  Castiglione,  by  Raphael 

Frontispiece 


David,  by  Donatello      .        .        .        .  .16 

David,  by  Verrocchio    .        .        .        .  .18 

Madonna.    Relief  by  Rossellino     ...  20 

Angel  Bearing  Candelabrum,  by  Luca  della 

Robbia  .        .        .        .        .        .  .21 

Angel  Bearing  Candelabrum,  by  Benedetto  da 

Majano         ......  23 

Allegory  of  Spring,  by  Botticelli     ...  25 

Raphael's  Madonna  di  Foligno        ...  32 
From  Marc  Antonio's  Engraving. 


Study  of  a  Girl's  Head,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci  37 

(The  eyebrows  and  lines  on  lids  added  by  a  later 
inferior  hand.) 

The  Last  Supper,  by  Ghirlandajo    .  39 

The  Last  Supper  ......  45 

From  an  Engraving  by  Marc  Antonio. 

Bust  of  a  Florentine  Girl,  by  Desiderio   .        .  48 

Portrait  of  Mona  Lisa,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci  .  51 

xi 


xii 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

St.  Anne  with  the  Virgin  and  the  Infant  Christ, 

by  Leonardo  da  Vinci  55 

Abundantia,  by  Gianpietrino  .        .  .61 

Pieta,  by  Michelangelo  .        .        .  65 

The  Madonna  of  Bruges,  by  Michelangelo       .  66 

Madonna  and  Child,  by  Benedetto  da  Majano  67 

Madonna  with  the  Book.  Relief  by  Michelangelo  69 

Holy  Family,  by  Michelangelo       .        .        ,  71 

David,  by  Michelangelo         .        .        .        .  74 

Apollo,  by  Michelangelo        .       ..        .        .  77 

Fragment  from  the  Cartoon  of  the  Bathing 

Soldiers,  by  Michelangelo        ...  80 

The  Erythraean  Sibyl,  by  Michelangelo   .        .  94 

Figures  of  Slaves,  by  Michelangelo.    (From  the 

first  group)     .......  98 

Figures  of  Slaves,  by  Michelangelo.    (From  the 

third  group)    .        .  .        .  .100 

Figure  of  a  Slave,  by  Michelangelo         .        .  101 

Tomb  of  the  Cardinal  of  Portugal,  by  Antonio 

Rossellino      .        .        .        .        .  .106 

Tomb  of  a  Prelate,  by  Andrea  Sansovino        .  109 
(The  upper  part  omitted) 

The  Virgin  with  SS.  Sebastian  and  John  the 

Baptist,  by  Perugino       .        .        .  .114 


Illustrations 


xiii 


PAGE 

The  Entombment,  by  Perugino  .  .  .119 
The  Entombment,  by  Raphael  .  .  .121 
The  Madonna  de  Granduca,  by  Raphael  .  125 
The  Madonna  della  Sedia,  by  Raphael  . .  127 
The  Madonna  del  Cardellino,  by  Raphael  .  128 
The  Madonna  della  Casa  Alba,  by  Raphael  .  130 
The  Deliverance  of  St.  Peter,  by  Domenichino  159 

The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  .        .  .169 

From  N.  Dorigny's  Engraving  after  Raphael's 
Cartoon 

"Feed  my  Lambs"        .....  171 

From  N.  Dorigny's  Engraving  after  Raphael's 
Cartoon 

The  Death  of  Ananias  .        .        .  .  .175 

From  N.  Dorigny's  Engraving  after  Raphael's 


Cartoon 

Portrait  of  Francesco  deir  Opere,  by  Perugino  185 

Portrait  of  a  Cardinal,  by  Raphael  .  .187 

The  Violin-Player,  by  Sebastiano  del  Piombo  .  189 

Dorothea  (Portrait),  by  Sebastiano  del  Piombo  191 

La  Donna  Velata,  by  Raphael        .        .  .193 

Madonna    with    Two    Kneeling    Saints,  by 

Albertinelli     .        .        .        .        .        .  199 

The  Transfiguration,  by  Giovanni  Bellini        .  205 


xiv  Illustrations  I 

PAC 

Fragment  from  the  Transfiguration,  by  Raphael  20; 

The  Transfiguration,  by  L.  Carracci        .        .  20* 

Vintage        .        .        .        .        ,        t  2IC 
From  the  Engraving  by  Marc  Antonio 

The  Virgin  Appearing  to  St.  Bernard,  by  Fra 

Bartolommeo  .        .        .  .217 

Madonna  with  Saints,  by  Fra  Bartolommeo     .  220 

The  Risen  Christ  with  the  Four  Evangelists, 
by  Fra  Bartolommeo 

Pieta,  by  Fra  Bartolommeo  .... 

The  Holy  Trinity,  by  Albertinelli  . 

The  Annunciation,  by  Albertinelli  . 

The  Birth  of  the  Virgin,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto 
(The  upper  part  omitted) 

The  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist,  by  Andrea 
del  Sarto  .... 

The    Preaching    of  John    the    Baptist,  by 
Ghirlandajo  .... 

Salome  Dancing  before  Herod,  by  Andrea  del 
Sarto 

Justice,  by  Andrea  Sansovino 
The  Annunciation,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto 
The  Madonna  delle  Arpie,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto  256 


Illustrations 


xv 


PAGE 

Disputa,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto         .        .        .  257 

The  Madonna  with  Six  Saints  (1524),  by  Andrea 

del  Sarto        .        .        .        .  .  .260 

The  Madonna  del  Sacco,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto  .  263 

St.  John  the  Baptist,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto       .  265 

Supposed  Portrait  of  Himself,  by  Andrea  del 

Sarto     .        .        .        .        .        .  269 

Portrait  of  a  Youth,  by  Franciabigio       .  .271 

The  Tomb  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  with  the  figures 

of  Morning  and  Evening,  by  Michelangelo  276 


The  Medici  Madonna,  by  Michelangelo 

Crouching  Boy,  by  Michelangelo 

Christ,  by  Michelangelo 

An  Allegory,  by  Bronzino 

Venus  and  Amor  (II  Giorno),  by  Vasari 


The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds,  by  P.  Tibaldi  293 


Baptism  of  Christ,  by  Verrocchio  . 

Baptism  of  Christ,  by  Andrea  Sansovino 

Piet&  

From  Marc  Antonio's  Engraving  after  Raphael 

The  Visitation,  by  Sabastiano  del  Piombo 

Madonna  and  Child  with  Angels,  by  Filippino 
Lippi  ...... 


280 
282 
284 
285 
291 


298 
300 
304 

307 
320 


xvi 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

The  Youthful  St.  John  Preaching,  by  Raphael  334 

The  Birth  of  John  the  Baptist,  by  Ghirlandajo  337 

Tobias  with  the  Angel,  by  Verrocchio  (?)  (Or 

perhaps  Eotticini)  .....  338 

Attendant  Carrying  Fruit,  by  Ghirlandajo       .  34 ) 

Woman  Carrying  Water,  by  Raphael      .  .341 

Venus,  by  Lorenzo  di  Credi    ....  344 

Venus,  by  Fran ciabigio  (?)     .        .        .        .  345 

La  Bella  Simonetta,  by  Piero  di  Cosimo  .        .  346 

Vittoria  Colonna  (so-called),  by  Michelangelo  .  349 

Allegory,  by  Filippino  Lippi  ....  360 

Venus  ........  369 

Copy  from  Marc  Antonio's  Engraving. 

Three  Female  Saints  (fragment),  by  Sebastiano 

del  Piombo    .  -  .        .        .        .  380 

Prudence,  by  Pollaiuolo         ....  384 

Reclining  Venus  (fragment),  by  Piero  di  Cosimo  390 

Reclining  Venus,  by  Titian     .        .        .  .391 

Perseus  (cast),  by  Benvenuto  Cellini  .     .        .  397 

Giovannino,  in  the  Berlin  Museum         .        .  398 

St.  Cosmo,  by  Montorsoli      .        .        .  '  400 

St.  John  the  Baptist,  by  J.  Sansovino     .        .  402 


Illustrations 


xvii 


PAGE 

Madonna  with  Eight  Saints,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto  404 

Madonna   with  Angels  and   Six   Saints,  by 

Botticelli       ......  405 

Madonna  with  the  Two  SS.  John,  by  Botticelli  412 

The  Death  of  Peter  Martyr,  by  Gentile  Bellini  (?)  419 

The  Death  of  Peter  Martyr,  by  Titian    .        .  42 1 

St.  Jerome,  by  Basaiti   .....  423 

St.  Jerome,  by  Titian     .....  424 

Holy  Family,  by  Bronzino      ....  430 


Introduction 


CLASSIC  ART1 

The  word  "classic"  has  a  somewhat  chilly  sound. 
It  seems  to  thrust  us  out  of  the  brilliant,  living  world 
into  an  airless  space,  the  abode  of  shadows,  not  of 
human  beings  with  warm  red  blood.  Classic  Art 
represents  for  us  eternal  death,  eternal  age,  the  fruit 
of  the  academies,  a  product  of  teaching  rather  than 
of  life.  An$  our  thirst  for  the  living,  the  actual,  the 
tangible  is  so  insatiable!  The  art  the  modern  man 
demands  is  an  art  that  savours  of  earth.  The  Quat- 
trocento, and  not  the  Cinquecento,  is  the  darling  age 
of  our  generation;  we  love  its  frank  sense  of  reality, 
its  naivete  of  vision  and  emotion.  We  readily  take 
a  few  archaisms  of  expressions  into  the  bargain,  so 
pleasant  is  it  to  admire  and  to  smile  at  the  same  time. 
The  traveller  at  Florence  pores  with  unquenchable 
delight  over  the  pictures  of  the  old  masters,  who  tell 
their  story  so  artlessly  and  sincerely  that  he  feels 
himself  transported  into  the  cheerful  Florentine  room 
where  a  woman  receives  her  visitors  after  childbirth, 
or  into  the  streets  and  squares  of  the  mediaeval  city 

1  It  will,  of  course,  be  understood  that,  throughout  this  work, 
the  author  uses  the  term  "Classic  Art"  in  a  special  sense, 
applying  it  to  the  Art  of  the  High  Renaissance  in  Italy. — Tr. 

i 


2 


Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


where  the  people  stand  about,  and  whence  one  or  the 
other  of  the  actors  in  the  scene  looks  out  of  the  pic- 
ture at  us  with  a  vitality  positively  startling.  Every 
one  knows  Ghirl'andajo's  paintings  in  Santa  Maria 
Novella.  How  gaily  the  artist  sets  forth  the  legends 
of  the  Virgin  and  of  St.  John,  telling  the  story  in  a 
homely,  but  not  a  sordid  fashion,  showing  life  under 
its  holiday  aspect,  with  a  healthy  delight  in  colour 
and  profusion,  costly  raiment  and  ornaments,  rich 
architecture  and  plenishings.  What  could  be  daintier 
than  Filippino's  picture  in  the  Badia,  of  the  Madonna 
Appearing  to  St.  Bernard,  and  laying  her  slender  hand 
on  his  book?  And  what  an  aroma  of  Nature  breathes 
from  the  lovely  girl-angels  who  attend  the  Virgin, 
and  press  forward,  timid  yet  inquisitive,  behind  her 
mantle,  their  hands  mechanically  folded  in  the  attitude 
of  prayer,  as  they  look  wonderingly  at  the  strange 
man.  .  Before  Botticelli's  charm  even  Raphael  him- 
self must  yield,  and  he  who  has  once  fallen  under  the 
spell  of  his  sensuous  melancholy  will  be  apt  to  find 
a  Madonna  della  Sedia  uninteresting. 

The  early  Renaissance  calls  up  a  vision  of  slender- 
limbed,  virginal  figures  in  variegated  robes,  bloom- 
ing meadows,  floating  veils,  spacious  halls  with  wide 
arches  on  graceful  pillars.  It  means  all  the  fresh  vig- 
our of  youth,  shining  eyes,  all  that  is  bright,  trans- 
parent, lively,  cheerful,  natural,  and  varied.  Pure 
nature,  yet  nature  with  a  touch  of  fairy  splendour. 

We  pass  unwillingly  and  distrustfully  from  this  gay 
and  many-coloured  world  into  the  still  and  stately 
halls  of  classic  art.  What  manner  of  men  are  these? 
Their  gestures  seem  strange  to  us.    We  miss  the 


Introduction 


3 


childlike  unconscious  charm  of  a  more  intimate  art. 
Here  there  is  no  one  who  looks  at  us  like  an  old  friend, 
Here  are  no  cosy  rooms  with  homely  utensils  scattered 
about,  but  colourless  walls  and  massive  architecture. 

Indeed,  the  modern  Northerner  approaches  works 
of  art  such  as  the  School  of  Athens  so  wholly  unprepared 
for  their  enjoyment,  that  his  embarrassment  at  a  first 
sight  of  them  is  not  unnatural.  We  can  hardly  blame 
him,  if  he  secretly  asks  himself  why  Raphael  did  not 
rather  choose  to  paint  a  Roman  flower-market,  or 
some  such  animated  scene  as  that  of  the  peasants 
coming  to  be  shaved  on  Sunday  mornings  in  the  Piazza 
Montanara.  The  artistic  problems  solved  in  those 
other  works  have  no  points  of  contact  with  modern 
dilettantism,  and  we,  with  our  archaic  predilections, 
are  fundamentally  incapable  of  appreciating  these 
masterpieces  of  form.  We  delight  in  primitive  sim- 
plicity. We  enjoy  the  hard,  childishly  clumsy  con- 
struction, the  jerky,  breathless  style  of  the  precursors, 
and  neither  understand  nor  value  the  artistically 
rounded,  sonorous  periods  of  their  successors. 

But  even  when  the  thesis  is  more  familiar,  as  when 
the  Cinquecentists  treat  the  old  simple  themes  of  the 
Gospel  cycle,  the  indifference  of  the  public  is  still 
comprehensible.  It  feels  itself  on  insecure  ground, 
and  cannot  tell  whether  it  should  accept  the  gestures 
and  ideas  of  classic  art  as  genuine.  It  has  had  to 
swallow  so  much  false  classicism,  that  it  turns  with 
zest  to  coarser  but  purer  fare.  We  have  lost  faith  in 
the  grandiose.  We  have  become  weak  and  distrust- 
ful, and  everywhere  we  detect  theatrical  sentiment 
and  empty  declamation. 


4         Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


And  the  factor  that  counts  for  most  in  our  distrust 
is  the  perpetual  suggestion  that  this  art  is  not  original, 
that  it  derives  from  the  antique,  that  the  marble  world 
of  the  buried  past  laid  a  deathly  hand  on  the  blooming 
life  of  the  Renaissance. 

Yet  classic  art  is  but  the  natural  sequence  of  the 
Quattrocento,  a  perfectly  spontaneous  manifestation 
of  the  Italian  genius.  It  was  not  the  outcome  of 
imitation  of  a  foreign  exemplar — the  antique — it  was 
no  product  of  schools,  but  a  hardy  growth,  springing 
up  at  a  period  of  most  vigorous  life. 

This  correlation  has  been  obscured  for  us,  because 
■ — and  herein  perhaps  lies  the  real  ground  of  the  pre- 
judice against  Italian  classicism — a  purely  national 
movement  has  been  taken  for  universal,  and.  forms 
which  have  life  and  meaning  only  under  certain  skies 
and  on  certain  soil  have  been  reproduced  under  wholly 
different  conditions.  The  art  of  the  High  Renaissance 
in  Italy  is  Italian  art,  and  its  idealisation  of  reality 
was,  after  all,  but  an  idealisation  of  Italian  realities. 

Vasari  himself  so  divided  his  work  as  to  open  a  new 
section  with  the  sixteenth  century,  that  period  in  re- 
lation to  which  the  earlier  stages  were  to  appear  but 
as  preliminary  and  preparatory.  He  begins  the  third 
division  of  his  art-history  with  Leonardo.  Leonardo's 
Last  Supper  was  painted  in  the  last  decade  of  the 
fifteenth  century  It  was  the  first  great  work  of  the 
new  art.  Michelangelo  made  his  debut  at  the  same 
time.  Nearly  twenty-five  years  younger  than  the 
Milanese,  he  too  had  new  things  to  say  in  his  very 
first  works.  Fra  Bartolommeo  was  his  contemporary. 
Raphael  followed  at  an  interval  of  about  ten  years, 


Introduction 


5 


and  Andrea  del  Sarto  came  close  upon  him.  Broadly 
speaking,  the  first  twenty-five  years  of  the  sixteenth 
century  are  taken  as  representative  of  the  classic 
evolution  in  Romano-Florentine  art. 

It  is  not  altogether  easy  to  take  a  general  survey 
of  this  epoch.  Familiar  as  its  masterpieces  have  been 
made  to  us  from  our  youth  up  by  means  of  engravings 
and  reproductions  of  all  kinds,  it  is  only  by  slow  de- 
grees that  we  can  form  a  coherent  and  lively  idea  of  the 
world  that  bore  these  fruits.  It  is  otherwise  with  the 
Quattrocento.  The  fifteenth  century  still  lives  before 
our  eyes  in  Florence.  Much  has  disappeared,  much 
has  been  removed  from  its  natural  setting  to  the 
prisons  of  the  museums,  but  still  there  are  many  places 
left  in  which  one  seems  to  breathe  the  very  air  of  the 
period.  The  Cinquecento  is  represented  in  more 
fragmentary  fashion;  in  fact,  it  never  achieved  com- 
plete expression.  In  Florence  one  feels  that  the  vast 
substructure  of  the  Cinquecento  lacks  its  crown.  The 
final  development  is  not  clearly  apparent.  I  am  not 
alluding  to  the  early  removal  of  easel  pictures,  in 
consequence  of  which  there  is  very  little  of  Leonardo's 
left  in  Italy,  but  to  the  dissipation  of  forces  that  took 
place  in  the  very  beginning.  Leonardo's  Last  Sup- 
per,  which  belongs  incontrovertibly  to  Florence,  was 
painted  for  Milan.  Michelangelo  became  half-Roman, 
Raphael  wholly  so.  But  among  their  Roman  achieve- 
ments are  the  Sistine  ceiling,  an  absurdity,  a  penance 
to  the  artist  and  the  spectator,  and  those  paintings 
Raphael  was  obliged  to  execute  on  walls  in  the  Vatican 
where  no  one  can  see  them  properly.  Of  the  rest, 
how  much  was  actually  finished,  how  much  of  the 


6         Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


short  period  of  perfection  went  farther  than  the  initial 
project,  and  how  much  escaped  immediate  destruc- 
tion? Leonardo's  Last  Supper  itself  is  a  wreck.  His 
great  battle-piece,  destined  for  Florence,  was  never 
completed,  and  even  the  cartoon  is  lost.  Michel- 
angelo's Bathing  Soldiers  shared  the  same  fate.  Of  the 
tomb  of  Julius  II.,  only  two  figures  were  executed,  and 
the  facade  of  San  Lorenzo,  which  was  to  have  been 
a  mirror  reflecting  the  soul  of  Tuscan  architecture  and 
sculpture,  was  never  carried  out.  The  Medici  Chapel 
is  only  a  partial  compensation;  already  it  verges  on 
the  baroque.  Classic  art  has  left  us  no  monument  in 
the  great  style,  in  which  architecture  and  sculpture 
are  welded  together  for  perfect  expression;  and  the 
great  achievement  of  architecture,  in  which  all  the 
artistic  forces  of  the  age  combined,  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome,  was  destined  after  all  to  be  no  true  monument 
of  the  High  Renaissance. 

Classic  art  then  may  be  likened  to  the  ruins  of  an 
unfinished  building,  the  original  form  of  which  must 
be  reconstructed  from  fragments  widely  scattered 
and  from  imperfect  tradition,  and  there  is  perhaps 
much  justice  in  the  assertion  that  in  all  the  history  of 
Italian  art  there  is  no  more  obscure  epoch  than  that 
of  its  golden  age. 


PART  I 


I 


PRELIMINARY  SURVEY 

Italian  painting  begins  with  Giotto.  It  was  he 
who  loosened  the  tongue  of  art.  What  he  painted 
has  a  voice,  and  what  he  relates  becomes  an  experi- 
ence. He  explored  the  wide  circle  of  human  emotion, 
he  discoursed  of  sacred  history  and  the  legends  of  the 
saints,  and  everywhere  of  actual,  living  things.  The 
heart  of  the  incident  is  always  plucked  out,  the  scene, 
with  its  effect  upon  the  beholders,  is  always  brought 
before  us  just  as  it  must  have  taken  place.  Giotto, 
like  the  preachers  and  poets  of  the  school  of  St. 
Francis  of  Assisi,  undertook  to  expound  the  sacred 
story,  and  to  elucidate  it  by  intimate  details ;  but  the 
essence  of  his  achievement  is  to  be  found,  not  in 
poetic  invention,  but  in  pictorial  presentment,  in  the 
rendering  of  things  that  no  one  had  hitherto  been  able 
to  give  in  painting.  He  had  an  eye  for  the  speaking 
elements  of  a  scene,  and  perhaps  painting  never  made 
such  a  sudden  advance  in  expressive  power  as  in  his 
time.  Giotto  must  not  be  looked  upon  as  a  kind  of 
Christian  Romantic,  who  bore  about  in  his  pocket 
the  outpourings  of  a  Franciscan  brother,  and  whose 
art  had  blossomed  under  the  inspiration  of  that  in- 
finite love  by  which  the  Saint  of  Assisi  drew  heaven 
down  to  earth,  and  made  the  world  an  Eden.    He  was 

9 


io        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


no  enthusiast,  but  a  man  of  realities;  no  poet,  but  an 
observer ;  an  artist  who  is  never  carried  away  by  the 
ardour  of  his  eloquence,  but  whose  speech  is  always 
limpid  and  expressive. 

Others  surpassed  him  in  fervour  of  emotion  and 
in  force  of  passion.  Giovanni  Pisano,  the  sculptor, 
shows  more  soul  in  his  more  inflexible  material  than 
the  painter  Giotto.  The  story  of  the  Annunciation 
could  not  have  been  more  tenderly  told  in  the 
spirit  of  that  age  than  by  Giovanni  in  his  relief  on 
the  pulpit  at  Pistoja,  and  in  his  more  passionate 
scenes  there  is  something  of  Dante's  fiery  spirit. 
But  this  very  quality  was  his  undoing.  He  forced 
expression  too  far.  The  desire  to  express  emotion 
destroyed  the  sense  of  form,  and  the  master's  art 
ran  riot. 

Giotto  is  calmer,  cooler,  more  equable.  His  popu- 
larity will  never  wane,  for  all  can  understand  him. 
The  rough  traits  of  national  life  appealed  to  him  more 
strongly  than  its  refinements,  and  he  sought  his 
effects  in  clarity  rather  than  in  beauty  of  line.  His 
works  are  curiously  lacking  in  that  harmonious  sweep 
of  draperies,  those  rhythmic  movements  and  attitudes 
which  constituted  style  in  his  generation.  Compared 
with  those  of  Giovanni  Pisano,  they  are  clumsy,  and 
with  those  of  Andrea  Pisano,  the  master  of  the  brazen 
gates  of  the  Baptistery  at  Florence,  absolutely  ugly. 
The  grouping  of  the  two  women  who  embrace  and  the 
servant  attending  them  in  Andrea's  Visitation  is  a 
sculptured  melody.  Giotto's  rendering  is  hard,  but 
extraordinarily  expressive.  One  does  not  easily  for- 
get the  line  of  his  Elizabeth  bending  down  to  look 


Preliminary  Survey 


ii 


into  the  Virgin's  face  (Chapel  of  the  Arena,  Padua) ; 
whereas  of  Andrea's  group  one  retains  but  a  vague 
impression  of  harmonious  curves. 

Giotto's  art  reached  its  highest  expression  in  the 
frescoes  of  Santa  Croce.  In  clarity  of  representa- 
tion he  here  went  beyond  all  his  earlier  works,  and 
in  composition  he  essayed  effects  which  entitle  him, 
in  intention  at  least,  to  rank  beside  the  masters  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  His  own  immediate  succes- 
sors could  not  understand  this  aspect  of  his  art.  Sim- 
plicity and  concentration  were  again  abandoned; 
painters  desired  above  all  things  to  be  rich  and  varied ; 
in  the  effort  to  be  profound  they  produced  pictures 
that  were  confused  and  ambiguous.  Then,  at  the 
beginning  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a  painter  appeared 
who  set  things  right,  by  his  vigorous  initiative,  and 
determined  the  pictorial  aspects  of  the  visible  world. 
This  master  was  Masaccio. 

The  student  at  Florence  should  not  fail  to  see 
Masaccio  immediately  after  Giotto,  in  order  to  note 
the  difference  in  all  its  intensity.  The  contrast  is 
amazing. 

Vasari  makes  a  remark  about  Masaccio  which  has 
a  somewhat  trivial  and  obvious  sound.  "He  re- 
cognised that  painting  is  but  the  imitation  of  things 
as  they  are."1  One  might  ask  why  the  same  should 
not  have  been  said  of  Giotto.  The  sentence  has 
probably  a  meaning  deeper  than  the  superficial  one. 
What  now  seems  to  us  a  commonplace — that  painting 
should  give  an  impression  of  reality — was  not  always 

1  Vasari,  Le  Vite  (ed.  Milanesi),  ii.,  288. 


12        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


an  axiom.  There  was  a  time  when  this  requirement 
was  quite  unknown,  and  for  the  sufficient  reason  that 
it  was  believed  to  be  essentially  impossible  to  suggest 
the  tactile  quality  of  material  objects  on  a  flat  surface. 
This  was  the  received  opinion  of  the  whole  mediaeval 
period.  Men  were  content  .with  a  representation 
that  merely  suggested  objects  and  their  relation  to 
one  another  in  space,  without  any  idea  of  inviting  a 
comparison  with  Nature.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  a  mediaeval  picture  was  ever  approached  with 
our  preconceptions  of  illusory  effect.  It  was  undoubt- 
edly one  of  the  greatest  advances  achieved  by  human- 
ity, when  this  limitation  was  recognised  as  prejudicial, 
and  when  men  began  to  believe  that  it  might  be 
possible  to  achieve  something  which  should  come  near 
to  the  actual  impression  made  by  Nature,  though 
the  effects  might  be  produced  by  very  different  means. 
No  one  man  could  have  brought  about  such  a  re- 
adjustment of  ideas.  A  single  generation  indeed 
could  not  suffice.  Giotto  did  something  towards  it; 
but  Masaccio  added  so  much  that  he  was  very  justly 
described  as  the  first  artist  who  attained  to  "the 
imitation  of  things  as  they  are." 

First  of  all,  he  amazes  us  by  his  thorough  mastery 
of  the  problems  of  space.  In  his  hands  for  the  first 
time  a  picture  became  a  stage,  in  the  construction  of 
which  a  certain  fixed  point  of  sight  was  kept  steadily 
in  view,  a  space  in  which  persons,  trees,  and  houses 
had  their  duly  and  geometrically  determined  places. 
In  Giotto's  works  everything  was  still  massed  together; 
he  superimposed  head  above  head,  without  asking 
himself  how  their  respective  bodies  were  to  find  places, 


Preliminary  Survey 


13 


and  the  architecture  of  the  background  has  the  appear- 
ance of  unsubstantial  stage  scenery,  bearing  no  sort  of 
actual  proportion  to  the  figures.  Masaccio  not  only 
portrays  possible,  habitable  houses,  but  gives  a  senee 
of  space  that  extends  to  the  last  line  of  his  landscapes. 
His  point  of  sight  is  taken  on  a  level  with  the  head?, 
and  the  crowns  of  the  heads  of  figures  on  the  equ:  1 
surfaces  are  therefore  all  of  a  height.  This  gives  an 
extraordinary  appearance  of  solidity  to  a  row  of  three 
heads  in  profile,  one  behind  the  other,  terminating 
perhaps  with  a  fourth  head,  seen  full-face.  Step  by 
step  we  are  led  into  the  depths  of  the  given  space; 
everything  is  ranged  in  clearly  defined  strata,  one 
behind  the  other.  The  student  who  wishes  to  see  the 
new  art  in  all  its  glory  should  go  to  Santa  Maria  No- 
vella, and  study  the  fresco  of  the  Trinity.  Here,  by 
the  aid  of  architecture,  and  the  use  of  intersections, 
four  zones  are  developed  towards  the  background, 
and  the  illusion  of  space  is  astonishing.  Beside  this, 
Giotto's  work  looks  absolutely  flat.  His  frescoes  in 
Santa  Croce  have  the  effect  of  a  carpet ;  the  uniform 
blue  of  the  sky  suffices  in  itself  to  bind  the  various 
pictures  together  in  a  common  effect  of  flatness.  It 
would  seem  as  if  the  artist  had  had  no  idea  of  laying 
hold  of  some  element  of  reality ;  the  flat  surface  of  the 
division  is  at  best  uniformly  filled  up  to  the  top,  as  if 
the  painter  had  been  required  to  decorate  it  in  some 
ornamental  fashion.  All  round  the  design  are  bands 
with  mosaic  patterns,  and  when  these  patterns  are 
again  repeated  in  the  picture  itself,  the  imagination  is 
not  constrained  to  make  any  distinction  between  the 
frame  and  the  thing  enframed,  and  the  suggestion  of  a 


14        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


flat  wall-decoration  becomes  unpleasantly  obtrusive. 
Masaccio  enframes  his  scenes  between  painted  pilas- 
ters, and  seeks  to  produce  the  illusion  of  a  continua- 
tion of  the  picture  behind  these. 

Giotto  barely  indicates  the  shadows  cast  by  solid 
bodies,  and  for  the  most  part  altogether  ignores  the 
shadow  cast  by  a  body  in  light  upon  a  light  ground. 
It  was  not  that  he  had  never  noticed  them,  but  that 
it  seemed  to  him  unnecessary  to  insist  upon  them. 
He  looked  upon  them  as  disturbing  accidents  in  a 
picture,  by  which  the  subject  was  in  no  wise  elucidated. 
In  Masaccio's  hands,  light  and  shade  become  elements 
of  first-rate  importance.  It  seemed  to  him  essential 
to  render  the  actual  condition  of  things  and  to  show 
the  full  force  of  natural  effects  on  material  objects. 
His  manner  of  treating  a  head  with  a  few  vigorous 
indications  of  form  gives  a  totally  new  impression. 
Bulk  is  expressed  here  with  unprecedented  power. 
And  it  is  the  same  with  all  other  forms.  As  a  natural 
consequence  of  this  treatment,  the  high  tones  of  the 
earlier  pictures  with  their  shadowy  effects  give  place 
to  a  more  substantial  system  of  colour. 

The  whole  structure  of  pictures  was  consolidated, 
so  to  speak,  and  here  we  may  appropriately  quote 
another  remark  of  Vasari's,  to  the  effect  that  it  was 
Masaccio  who  first  made  figures  stand  on  their  feet. 

Besides  this  there  is  something  else,  the  intensified 
feeling  for  the  personal,  for  the  peculiarities  of  the 
individual.  Even  Giotto  differentiates  his  figures, 
but  his  are  only  general  distinctions.  Masaccio 
gives  us  clearly  marked  individual  characteristics. 
The  new  age  is  termed  the  century  of  " Realism.' ' 


Preliminary  Survey 


15 


The  word  has  now  passed  through  so  many  hands 
that  it  no  longer  has  any  clear  meaning.  Something 
proletarian  clings  to  it,  a  semblance  of  bitter  opposi- 
tion, where  coarse  ugliness  wishes  to  force  itself  in, 
and  claims  its  rights,  since  it  too  exists  in  the  world. 
The  quattrocentist  realism  is,  however  essentially 
joyous.  It  is  the  higher  estimate,  which  brings  new 
elements.  Interest  is  no  longer  confined  to  the 
individual  head,  but  the  vast  variety  of  individual 
attitudes  and  movements  is  included  in  the  realm  of 
worthy  motives  for  representation,  attention  is  given 
to  the  will  and  mood  of  each  particular  material,  and 
the  artist  rejoices  in  the  stubborn  line.  The  old  laws 
of  beauty  seemed  to  do  violence  to  nature ;  the  sway- 
ing attitude,  the  varied  modulations  of  the  drapery, 
were  felt  to  be  merely  beautiful  phrases,  of  which  men 
had  become  weary.  A  mighty  need  arose  for  reality, 
and  if  one  thing  shows  sincere  belief  in  the  value  of  the 
newly  comprehended  sense  of  vision  more  strongly 
than  another,  it  is  the  circumstance  that  even  super- 
natural beings  for  the  first  time  appear  credible  in 
earthly  dress,  with  individual  features,  and  without 
a  trace  of  idealism  in  their  representation. 

It  was  not  a  painter,  but  a  sculptor,  in  whom  the 
new  spirit  was  next  destined  to  manifest  itself  most 
synthetically.  Masaccio  died  young,  and  could 
therefore  but  briefly  express  himself,  but  Donatello 
is  a  conspicuous  figure  throughout  the  entire  first  half 
of  the  fifteenth  century;  his  works  form  a  long  series, 
and  he  is  indisputably  the  most  important  personality 
of  the  Quattrocento.  He  took  up  the  peculiar  tasks 
of  the  time  with  unrivalled  energy,  and  yet  he  was 


16        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


never  carried  away  by  the  one-sidedness  of  an  un- 
bridled realism.  He 
was  a  portrayer  of 
men  who  pursued  the 
characteristic  form  to 
the  very  depths  of 
ugliness,  and  then 
again  in  all  calm  and 
purity  reproduced  the 
image  of  a  tranquil 
and  bewitching  beau- 
ty. There  are  statues 
of  his  in  which  he 
drains  an  abnormal 
individuality  to  the 
very  dregs  as  it  were, 
and  side  by  side  with 
these  are  figures  like 
the  bronze  David, 
where  the  High  Re- 
naissance feeling  for 
beauty  already  rings 
out  clear  and  true, 
He  is  withal  a  story- 
teller of  unsurpass- 
able vividness  and 
dramatic  force.  A 
panel  like  the  St.  John 
relief  at  Siena  may 
be  fitly  designated 
the  best  narrative  of  the  century.  At  a  later  date, 
in  the  Miracles  of  St.  Anthony  at  Padua,  he  attacks 


David,  by  Donatello. 


Preliminary  Survey 


17 


veritable  cinquecentist  problems,  introducing  excited 
and  dramatic  crowds,  which,  compared  with  the  quiet 
rows  of  bystanders  in  contemporary  pictures,  repre- 
sent a  really  memorable  anachronism. 

The  counterpart  of  Donatello  in  the  second  half  of 
the  Quattrocento  is  Verrocchio  (1435-1488),  who  is 
in  no  way  comparable  to  him  in  personal  greatness, 
but  is  the  manifest  representative  of  the  new  ideals  of 
a  new  generation. 

From  the  middle  of  the  century  a  growing  desire 
for  delicacy,  grace  of  limb,  and  elegance  is  discernible. 
The  figures  lose  their  ruggedness ;  they  are  of  a  more 
slender  type,  small  of  wrist  and  ankle.  The  plain  blunt 
stroke  is  resolved  into  a  smaller,  finer  movement.  The 
artist  begins  to  take  pleasure  in  exact  modelling. 
The  most  delicate  undulations  of  surface  are  noticed. 
Tension  and  movement  are  aimed  at  rather  than 
repose  and  reticence;  the  fingers  are  spread  out  with 
a  conscious  elegance,  there  is  much  turning  and  bend- 
ing of  the  head,  much  smiling  and  emotional  uplifting 
of  the  eyes.  Affectation,  by  the  side  of  which  natural 
feeling  has  not  always  been  able  to  hold  its  own,  gains 
ground.  The  contrast  is  already  evident  when  Ver- 
rocchio's  bronze  David  is  compared  with  the  similar 
figure  by  Donatello.  The  sturdy  youth  has  become  a 
lithe-limbed  boy,  still  very  spare,  so  that  many  out- 
lines are  visible,  with  a  pointed  elbow,  which  is  delib- 
erately included  in  the  chief  silhouette  by  the  placing 
of  the  hand  on  the  hip.1    Tension  is  expressed  in 

1  The  illustration  unfortunately  does  not  give  quite  the  true 
front  view.  In  the  original  there  is  also  a  difference  of  size; 
Verrocchio's  David  is  about  one  third  smaller  than  Donatello's. 


2 


18        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

every  limb.     The  outstretched  leg,  the  compressed 


David,  by  Verrocchio. 

knee,  the  straining  arm  with  the  sword  are  all  in  strong 
contrast  to  the  repose  which  marks  Donatello's  figure. 


Preliminary  Survey  19 


The  whole  conception  is  based  on  an  impression  of 
movement.  The  head  even  is  now  required  to  express 
movement,  and  a  smile  steals  over  the  features  of  the 
youthful  conqueror.  The  master's  desire  for  grace 
finds  satisfaction  in  the  details  of  the  armour,  which 
delicately  follows  and  interrupts  the  fine  lines  of  the 
body,  and  when  we  note  the  thorough  modelling  of 
the  nude,  Donatello's  summary  process  seems  empty 
indeed  compared  with  Verrocchio's  wealth  of  form. 

The  same  spectacle  is  offered  by  a  comparison  of  the 
two  equestrian  figures,  those  of  Gattemelata  at  Padua 
and  of  Colleoni  in  Venice.  Verrocchio  expresses  the 
utmost  tension  in  the  seat  of  the  rider  and  the  move- 
ment of  the  horse.  His  Colleoni  is  riding  with  rigid 
legs,  and  the  horse  presses  forward  in  a  way  that 
conveys  the  impression  that  it  is  being  pulled.  The 
manner  in  which  the  commander's  baton  is  grasped, 
and  the  turn  of  the  head  show  the  same  intention. 
Donatello  by  contrast  appears  infinitely  simple  and 
unpretentious.  And  again,  he  presents  his  large  un- 
broken planes,  where  Verrocchio  breaks  them  up,  and 
goes  into  minute  details.  The  trappings  of  Verroc- 
chio's  horse  are  meant  to  reduce  the  planes.  The 
armour  in  itself,  as  well  as  the  treatment  of  the  mane, 
is  a  very  instructive  piece  of  late  quattrocentist  de- 
corative art.  The  elaboration  of  the  muscular  parts 
was  carried  so  far  by  the  artist  that  soon  afterwards  the 
criticism  was  passed  that  Verrocchio  had  made  a  horse 
from  which  the  hide  had  been  stripped.1  The  danger 
of  losing  himself  in  petty  details  was  clearly  imminent. 

1  Pomponius  Gauricus,  De  Sculptura. 


2o        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Verrocchio's  chief  title  to  fame  is  his  work  in  bronze. 
It  was  in  his  day  that  the  real  merits  of  the  mate- 
rial were  developed.  Men  set  about  to  break  up  the 
mass,  to  separate  the  figures  and  to  silhouette  them 


Madonna.    Relief  by  Rossellino. 


with  delicacy.  Even  from  the  pictorial  side  bronze 
possessed  beauties  which  were  recognised  and  fully 
turned  to  account.  The  luxuriant  wealth  of  folds  in 
drapery,  as  in  the  group  of  Christ  and  St.  Thomas  at 
Or  San  Michele  depends  not  only  on  the  impression  to 
be  made  by  line,  but  also  on  the  effect  of  glittering 
lights,  dark  shadows,  and  scintillating  reflections. 
Workers  in  marble  soon  turned  the  reaction  in  taste 


Preliminary  Survey  21 


to  account.  The  eye  had  learned  to  appreciate  the 
slightest  nuances,  and  stone  was  worked  with  un- 
precedented delicacy.  Desiderio  carves  his  dainty 
festoons  of  fruit,  and  shows  us  the  joy  of  life  in  his 
busts  of  Floren- 
tine maidens. 
Antonio  Rossel- 
lino,  and  the 
somewhat 
broader  Bene- 
detto da  Maja- 
no,  rival  paint- 
ers in  wealth 
of  expression. 
The  chisel  rend- 
ers the  soft  flesh 
of  children  as 
accurately  as  the 
fine  veil  of  a 
head-dress.  And 
if  we  look  care- 
fully, the  wind 
seems  here  and 
there  to  have 
lifted  the  end  of 
a  drapery,  causing  a  playful  crumpling  of  the  folds. 
In  the  perspectives  of  architecture  or  landscape  the 
depth  of  the  relief  is  greatly  increased.  It  may  be 
said  that  all  treatment  of  flat  surfaces  shows  a  desire 
to  leave  an  impression  of  lifelike  quivering  and 
trembling. 

The  typical  ancient  motives  of  plastic  art  are 


Angel  bearing  Candelabrum,  by  Luca 
della  Robbia. 


22        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


wherever  possible  changed  in  style,  so  as  to  express 
movement.  The  kneeling  angel  with  the  candlestick, 
as  Luca  della  Robbia  simply  and  beautifully  depicted 
him,  is  no  longer  sufficient;  he  too  is  summoned  to 
join  in  the  tumult  of  movement,  and  thus  a  figure 
such  as  Benedetto's  Angel  bearing  Candelabrum  in 
Siena  in  conceived.  With  smiling  countenance  and 
playful  turn  of  the  head  the  little  satellite  makes  his 
obeisance,  his  dress  fluttering  in  many  folds  round  his 
shapely  ankles.  The  higher  development  of  such  run- 
ning figures  is  seen  in  the  flying  angels,  who  seem 
to  cleave  the  air  with  a  stupendous  commotion  of 
lines  in  their  clinging  drapery,  whereas  being  simply 
reliefs  against  a  wall,  they  only  simulate  the  impression 
of  detached  figures.  (Antonio  Rossellino,  tomb  of  the 
Cardinal  of  Portugal  in  San  Miniato.) 

The  painters  in  the  second  half  of  the  century 
advance  on  parallel  lines  with  this  group  of  sculptors 
of  the  delicate  style.  They  are  naturally  far  better 
exponents  of  the  spirit  of  the  age.  It  is  they  who 
colour  our  conception  of  quattrocentist  Florence, 
and  when  the  early  Renaissance  is  mentioned,  we 
think  at  once  of  Botticelli  and  Filippino  and  the 
sumptuous  pictures  of  Ghirlandajo. 

Fra  Filippo  Lippi  was  the  immediate  successor  of 
Masaccio ;  he  modelled  his  style  on  the  frescoes  of  the 
Brancacci  Chapel;  about  the  middle  of  the  century 
he  executed  some  very  creditable  work  in  the  choir 
paintings  of  the  Cathedral  of  Prato.  He  is  not  want- 
ing in  dignity  and  as  a  painter  in  the  special  sense 
he  stands  quite  by  himself.  His  easel-pictures  treat 
subjects  like  the  twilit  forest  depths,  which  do  not 


Preliminary  Survey 


23 


appear  again  in  art  till  the  time  of  Correggio,  and  in 
his  frescoes  he  surpasses  all  the  Florentines  of  his 
century  in  charm  of  colour.  Every  one  indeed  who 
has  seen  the  apse 
of  the  Cathedral 
of  Spoleto, 
where  he  aimed 
at  producing  a 
t  r  emendous 
marvel  of  colour 
in  his  Corona- 
tion of  the  Virgin, 
will  acknow- 
ledge that  it  has 
no  parallel.  For 
all  this,  his  pic- 
tures are  faultily 
constructed. 
They  lack  space 
and  clarity,  and 
have  an  inco- 
herence that 
makes  US  regret  Angel  bear;ng  Candelabrum,  by  Benedetto 
that  he  was  so  da  Majano. 

little  able  to 

profit  by  the  achievements  of  Masaccio:  the  next 
generation  had  much  to  clarify,  and  it  carried  out 
the  task.  If  after  a  visit  to  Prato  one  goes  on  to 
Ghirlandajo  and  studies  the  frescoes  of  S.  Maria 
Novella  in  Florence,  it  is  amazing  to  find  how  limpidly 
and  calmly  he  works,  how  the  space  clears  itself,  as  it 
were,  how  assured  the  effect  is,  how  transparent  and 


24        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


comprehensible  the  whole.  Similar  merits  will  be 
noticeable  on  a  like  comparison  of  the  works  of  Filip- 
pino  or  Botticelli,  in  whose  veins,  nevertheless,  the 
blood  ran  far  less  calmly  than  in  Ghirlandajo's. 

Botticelli  (i  446-1 510)  was  a  pupil  of  Fra  Filippo, 
but  only  his  very  early  works  show  any  trace  of  this. 
They  were  men  of  quite  distinct  temperaments,  the 
Frate  with  his  broad  laugh  and  his  uniformly  good- 
tempered  pleasure  in  the  things  of  this  world,  and 
Botticelli,  impetuous,  fiery,  full  of  suppressed  emo- 
tion, an  artist  to  whom  the  superficial  elements  of 
painting  appealed  but  little,  who  found  expression 
in  vigorous  lines,  and  gave  to  his  heads  at  all  times 
a  wealth  of  character  and  expression.  Recall  his 
Madonna  with  the  thin  oval  face,  the  silent  mouth, 
the  sad  and  heavy  eyes;  how  different  is  his  outlook 
from  Filippo's  contented  twinkle.  His  saints  are  not 
healthy  beings  with  whom  all  goes  well;  he  gives 
his  Jerome  the  consuming  fire  of  the  spirit,  and  he 
thrills  us  with  the  expression  of  rapture  and  asceticism 
in  his  youthful  St.  John.  He  is  earnest  in  his  treat- 
ment of  the  sacred  legends  and  his  earnestness  grows 
with  age,  till  he  abandons  all  charm  of  outward  ap- 
pearance. His  beauty  has  a  careworn  air,  and  even 
when  he  smiles  it  seems  but  a  passing  gleam.  How 
little  mirth  there  is  in  the  dance  of  the  Graces  in  his 
Allegory  of  Spring,  how  strange  are  the  forms!  The 
crude  spareness  of  immaturity  has  become  the  ideal 
of  the  time.  In  representing  motion  the  artist  seeks 
the  strained  and  angular,  not  rich  curves,  and  every 
form  is  delicate  and  pointed,  not  full  and  rounded. 
The  master's  daintiness  is  all  confined  to  the  flowers 


26        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  grasses  on  the  ground,  the  gauzy  raiment  and 
jewelled  ornaments,  and  here  the  style  becomes  almost 
fantastic.  But  contemplative  lingering  over  details 
was  far  from  characteristic  of  Botticelli.  Even  in 
the  nude  he  soon  wearied  of  minute  elaboration,  and 
tried  to  achieve  a  simpler  method  of  representation 
by  broader  lines.  Vasari,  notwithstanding  his  train- 
ing in  the  school  of  Michelangelo,  admits  that  he  was 
an  eminent  draughtsman.  His  line  is  always  signifi- 
cant and  impressive.  It  has  a  certain  violence.  He 
is  incomparably  effective  in  the  representation  of 
rapid  motion,  he  even  gives  a  certain  fluidity  to  solid 
masses,  and  when  he  groups  his  picture  homogeneously 
round  a  centre,  some  new  result  of  great  consequence 
is  produced.  His  compositions  for  the  Adoration  of 
the  Magi  are  examples  in  point. 

Filippino  Lippi  (circa  1459-1504)  must  be  men- 
tioned in  the  same  breath  with  Botticelli.  An  iden- 
tity of  atmosphere  unites  two  distinct  individualities 
until  they  become  similar.  Filippino  inherited  from 
his  father  a  fund  of  talent  as  a  colourist,  which  Bot- 
ticelli did  not  possess.  The  outer  surface  of  things  at- 
tracted him.  He  treated  flesh-tints  more  delicately 
than  any  one.  He  gives  softness  and  lustre  to  the 
hair;  what  was  a  question  of  lines  to  Botticelli,  was  a 
problem  of  painting  to  him.  He  shows  great  discrimi- 
nation in  his  colours,  especially  in  the  blue  and  violet 
tones.  His  line  is  softer  and  more  undulating;  it  may 
be  said  that  he  has  a  certain  effeminacy  of  sentiment. 
Early  pictures  by  Filippino  exist  which  are  charming 
in  their  grace  of  feeling  and  execution.  Sometimes 
he  seems  almost  too  soft.    The  St.  John  in  the  picture 


Preliminary  Survey  27 


of  the  Virgin  with  Saints  of  i486  (in  the  Uffizi)  is  not  the 
rugged  desert-preacher,  but  a  sentimental  enthusiast. 
The  Dominican  in  the  same  picture  no  longer  holds 
a  book  firmly  in  his  hand,  but  merely  balances  it  upon 
the  ball  of  the  thumb  with  a  piece  of  cloth  between, 
while  the  lithe  delicate  fingers  move  like  sensitive 
feelers.  The  subsequent  development  does  not  cor- 
respond to  these  beginnings.  The  inner  thrill  be- 
comes an  irregular  outward  movement,  the  pictures 
are  hurried  and  confused,  and  the  painter  who  was 
able  to  complete  Masaccio's  chapel  with  dignity  and 
restraint,  can  hardly  be  recognised  in  the  later  frescoes 
in  S.  Maria  Novella.  He  has  an  infinite  wealth  of 
decorative  ornament,  and  the  fantastry  and  exaggera- 
tion, of  which  Botticelli  merely  shows  a  trace,  are  in 
him  strongly  marked  features.  He  threw  himself 
eagerly  into  the  representation  of  movement  and  often 
achieves  magnificent  results  by  a  superabundance  of 
motion.  The  Assumption  in  S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva, 
with  angels  revelling  like  Bacchantes,  is  a  painted 
Jubilate — then  again  he  sinks  into  mere  uproar  and 
becomes  even  crude  and  commonplace.  When  he 
paints  the  martyrdom  of  Philip,  he  chooses  the  moment 
when  the  cross,  drawn  up  on  ropes,  dangles  in  the  air, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  grotesque  costumes  in  the  picture. 
The  impression  is  conveyed  that  a  consummate  ability 
has  been  ruined  from  want  of  mental  discipline,  and  we 
understand  why  men  of  far  coarser  fibre,  like  Ghirlan- 
dajo,  outstripped  him.  In  S.  Maria  Novella,  where  the 
two  are  seen  together  on  adjacent  walls,  we  soon  tire  of 
Filippino's  convulsive  episodes,  while  Ghirlandajo, 
solid  and  sincere,  fills  the  spectator  with  real  pleasure. 


28        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Ghirlandajo  (1449-1490)  never  suffered  from  ex- 
cess of  sensibility:  he  was  of  phlegmatic  tempera- 
ment, but  his  frank  cheerful  spirit  and  his  delight 
in  the  pageants  of  life  enlist  men's  sympathies.  His 
work  is  very  entertaining, and  he  is  the  painter  who 
tells  us  most  of  social  life  in  Florence.  He  pays  little 
attention  to  the  subject  of  the  legends.  He  had  to 
tell  the  story  of  the  Virgin  and  of  the  Baptist  in  the 
choir  of  S.  Maria  Novella;  he  has  indeed  told  it,  but 
any  one  who  did  not  know  it  would  hardly  understand 
it.  What  a  picture  Giotto  made  of  the- Presentation 
of  Mary  in  the  Temple!  How  cunningly  he  brings 
the  whole  scene  before  us ;  the  little  Mary,  who  of  her 
own  free  will  mounts  the  steps  of  the  Temple,  the 
priest  bending  towards  her,  the  parents  who  follow 
the  child  with  eye  and  hand !  Ghirlandajo's  Mary  is  a 
smartly-dressed  schoolgirl,  casting  coquettish  side- 
glances  in  spite  of  her  rapid  advance;  the  priest  is 
hardly  visible,  for  he  is  concealed  by  a  pillar,  and  the 
parents  look  on  at  the  scene  with  indifference.  In 
the  Marriage,  Mary  makes  undignified  haste  to  ex- 
change rings,  and  the  Visitation  is  a  pretty  but  quite 
secular  presentment  of  a  greeting  between  two  women 
in  the  street.  In  the  Message  of  the  Angel  to  Zacha- 
riaSy  Ghirlandajo  cares  nothing  that  the  real  action 
is  completely  obscured  by  the  numerous  portrait- 
figures  in  the  foreground,  who  stand  unsympathet- 
ically  around.  He  is  a  painter,  not  a  narrator.  The 
object  itself  gives  him  pleasure.  His  heads  are 
admirably  lifelike,  but  when  Vasari  praises  his 
delineation  of  emotion,  no  eulogy  could  be  less  appro- 
priate.   Ghirlandajo  excels  in  repose  rather  than  in 


Preliminary  Survey 


29 


movement.  Scenes  such  as  the  Massacre  of  the 
Innocents  are  better  rendered  by  Botticelli  than  by 
him.  In  general  he  restricts  himself  to  a  simple, 
quiet  presentment,  and  pays  his  tribute  to  the  pre- 
vailing taste  for  movement  by  inserting  a  hurrying 
maid  or  some  similar  figure.  His  observation  is  never 
minute.  While  many  in  Florence  were  making  the 
most  searching  inquiry  into  the  problems  of  modelling 
and  anatomy,  of  the  technique  of  colour  and  aerial 
perspective,  he  was  content  with  results  already 
achieved.  He  was  no  experimentalist,  no  pioneer  of 
pictorial  science,  but  an  artist  who  possessed  the 
average  culture  of  the  day,  and  thus  equipped,  aimed 
at  new  and  monumental  effects.  He  raised  his  art 
from  the  small  style  to  one  dealing  with  the  effects 
of  large  masses.  He  was  rich  and  yet  distinct,  gay 
and  sometimes  even  great.  The  group  of  the  five 
women  in  The  Birth  of  the  Virgin  has  no  equal  in  the 
fifteenth  century.  And  the  essays  which  he  made  in 
motives  of  composition,  centralisation  of  episodes, 
and  treatment  of  corner-figures  are  such  that  the 
great  masters  of  the  Cinquecento  could  make  them 
their  starting  point. 

We  must  take  care,  however,  not  to  overestimate 
the  value  of  his  work.  Ghirlandajo's  paintings  in 
S.  Maria  Novella  were  completed  about  1490;  in  the 
years  immediately  succeeding,  Leonardo's  Last  Supper 
was  painted,  and  if  this  were  available  for  comparison 
in  Florence,  the  "monumental"  Ghirlandajo  would 
at  once  appear  poor  and  limited.  The  Last  Supper  is 
a  picture  infinitely  grander  in  form,  and  form  and 
subject  are  completely  in  harmony  here. 


30 


Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  assertion  often  erroneously  made  of  Ghirlan- 
dajo,  that  he  summed  up  in  his  art  the  results  of  the 
Florentine  Quattrocento,  is  in  the  highest  degree  true 
of  Leonardo  (born  1452).  He  is  subtle  in  his  ob- 
servation of  detail,  and  sublime  in  his  conception  of 
the  whole;  he  is  a  distinguished  draughtsman,  and 
no  less  consummate  a  painter;  there  is  no  artist  who 
has  not  found  his  own  special  problems  treated  by 
him,  and  further  developed,  and  he  excels  all  others 
in  the  depth  and  intensity  of  his  personality. 

As  Leonardo  is  usually  discussed  among  the  Cin- 
quecentists,  we  are  prone  to  forget  that  he  was  only 
a  little  younger  than  Ghirlandajo,  and  actually  older 
than  Filippino.  He  worked  in  Verrocchio's  studio, 
and  his  fellow-pupils  there  were  Perugino  and  Lorenzo 
di  Credi.  The  latter  was  a  star,  which  did  not  shine 
itself,  but  received  its  light  from  another  planet; 
his  pictures  seem  like  careful  exercises  on  a  set  theme ; 
Perugino,  on  the  contrary,  had  originality,  and  is  of 
great  significance  in  the  continuity  of  Florentine  art, 
as  we  shall  see  later.  These  pupils  have  made  Ver- 
rocchio's teaching  famous.  His  atelier  was  clearly 
the  most  versatile  in  Florence.  The  combination  of 
painting  and  sculpture  was  the  more  desirable  since 
it  was  precisely  the  sculptors  who  were  disposed  to 
make  a  methodical  attack  upon  nature,  and  there  was 
thus  less  danger  of  falling  into  the  cul-de-sac  of  an 
arbitrary  individual  style.  An  intimate  affinity 
seems  to  have  existed  between  Leonardo  and  Verroc- 
chio.  We  learn  from  Vasari  how  closely  allied  their 
interests  were,  and  how  many  threads  Leonardo  took 
up  which  Verrocchio  had  begun  to  weave.  Never- 


Preliminary  Survey 


3i 


theless  it  is  a  surprise  to  see  the  pupil's  youthful 
pictures.  The  Angel  inVerrocchio's  Baptism  (Florence 
Academy)  moves  us,  indeed,  like  a  voice  from  another 
world,  yet  how  entirely  unique  a  picture  like  the 
Madonna  of  the  Rocks  seems  in  the  series  of  Florentine 
Madonnas  of  the  Quattrocento ! 

Everything  in  it  is  significant  and  new;  the  motive 
in  itself  as  well  as  the  treatment  of  form ;  the  freedom 
of  movement  in  the  details,  and  the  strict  observance 
of  rules  in  the  grouping  of  the  whole,  the  infinitely 
subtle  animation  of  forms,  and  the  new  pictorial  value 
given  to  light  and  shadow,  the  intention  evidently 
being  to  give  the  figures  a  powerful  plastic  effect  by 
means  of  the  dark  background,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  entice  the  imagination  into  the  depths  by  a  novel 
method.1 

The  predominant  impression  of  the  work  at  a  dis- 
tance is  the  reality  of  the  figures,  and  the  painter's 
intention  of  gaining  the  effect  by  means  of  pyramidal 
grouping  strictly  according  to  rule.  The  picture  has 
a  tectonic  structure  quite  different  from  the  mere  sym- 

1  The  picture  of  the  Madonna  of  the  Rocks  in  the  Louvre  is  so 
superior  to  the  London  example,  that  it  seems  inconceivable  that 
there  should  have  been  any  doubt  as  to  its  originality.  The 
pointing  finger  of  the  angel  is  not  beautiful,  and  the  omission 
of  the  hand  in  the  London  picture  is  quite  intelligible  in  view  of 
the  later  idea  of  beauty.  Leonardo,  however,  if  he  had  super- 
vised the  replica,  would  certainly  have  known  how  to  fill  up  the 
resulting  gap :  in  spite  of  the  more  prominently  advanced  shoulder 
of  the  angel  there  is  now  a  hole  in  the  picture.  The  drawing  and 
modelling  have  been  strengthened  and  simplified  in  the  Cin- 
quecentist  style,  by  which  much  delicacy  has  been  destroyed, 
however  spiritual  the  new  expression  of  the  angel  may  be  felt  to  be. 


32        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

metrical  arrangement  of  earlier  pictures.  Here  there 
is  at  once  more  freedom  and  more  observance  of  rule, 
and  the  parts  have  been  essentially  conceived  in  their 

connection  with 
the  whole.  This 
is  the  Cinque- 
centist  style. 
Leonardo  early 
shows  traces  of 
it.  There  is  in 
the  Vatican  a 
kneeling  St. 
Jerome  with  the 
Lion  by  him. 
The  figure  is 
noteworthy  and 
has  been  long 
admired,  as  a 
study  of  move- 
ment, but  the 
question  may 
well  be  asked 
whether  any 
Raphael's  Madonna  di  Foligno.  one  besides  Leo- 

From  Marc  Antonio's  engraving.  nardo  would 

have  so  blended 

the  lines  of  the  lion  with  those  of  the  saint.  I  know  of 
no  one. 

None  of  the  early  pictures  of  Leonardo  have  exer- 
cised greater  influence  than  the  unfinished  Adoration 
of  the  Magi  (Uffizi).  This  work  dates  from  about 
1480,  and  shows  traces  of  the  old  school  in  the  mul- 


Preliminary  Survey 


33 


tiplicity  of  objects.  The  Quattrocentist  delight  in 
complexity  is  still  noticeable,  but  a  new  spirit  is 
expressed  by  the  prominence  given  to  the  princi- 
pal motive.  Both  Botticelli  and  Ghirlandajo  have 
painted  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi  in  such  a  way  that 
Mary  sits  in  the  centre  of  a  circle,  but  she  invariably 
loses  by  this  arrangement.  Leonardo  was  the  first 
to  make  the  main  motive  dominate.  The  position 
of  the  outer  figures  at  the  edge  of  the  picture  forming 
a  sharply  defined  enclosing  line  is  again  a  motive 
fruitful  in  results,  and  the  contrast  between  the 
thronging  crowd,  and  the  Madonna  in  the  spacious 
freedom  of  her  attitude,  is  a  specimen  of  that  most 
effective  style  which  can  be  attributed  to  Leonardo 
alone.  Had  we  nothing  but  this  group  of  Mother 
and  Babe,  we  should  have  to  reckon  him  as  a  creator, 
so  unprecedently  subtle  is  the  posture  and  the  co- 
ordination of  the  two  figures.  The  others  have 
represented  Mary  straddling  more  or  less  upon  the 
throne,  he  gives  her  the  more  graceful  feminine 
attitude,  with  knees  drawn  together.  Later  painters 
took  all  this  from  him,  and  the  charming  motive  of 
the  turn  of  the  figure  with  the  Boy  bending  away  to 
the  side  was  repeated  exactly  by  Raphael  in  the 
Madonna  di  Foligno. 

3 


II 


LEONARDO 
1452-1519 

No  artist  of  the  Renaissance  took  more  delight  in 
the  world  than  Leonardo.  All  phenomena  attracted 
him,  corporeal  life  and  human  emotions,  the  forms 
of  plants  and  animals  and  the  crystal  brook  with  the 
pebbles  in  its  bed.  The  narrowness  of  the  mere 
figure-painter  was  incomprehensible  to  him.  "Do 
you  not  see  how  many  various  kinds  of  beasts  there 
are,  what  different  trees,  herbs,  and  flowers,  what 
variety  of  mountains  and  of  plains,  of  springs,  rivers, 
and  towns,  what  diversity  of  dresses,  ornaments, 
and  arts?"1 

He  is  a  born  aristocrat  among  painters,  very  sus- 
ceptible to  all  that  is  delicate.  He  appreciated  taper 
hands,  transparent  drapery,  tender  skins.  He  es- 
pecially loved  beautiful,  soft,  waving  hair.  In  Ver- 
rocchio's  pictureof  the  Baptism  he  painted  a  tuft  or  two 
of  grass ;  one  sees  at  a  glance  that  they  are  his  work. 
No  one  else  has  his  feeling  for  the  beauty  of  plants. 

Strength  and  tenderness  are  equally  sympathetic  to 
him.  If  he  paints  a  battle  he  surpasses  everyone  in 
the  expression  of  unchained  passion  and  mighty 
movement,  and  yet  he  can  surprise  the  most  delicate 

1  Leonardo,  Trattato  delta  Pittura. 


Leonardo 


35 


emotion,  and  fix  the  most  fleeting  expression.  He 
seems  when  painting  some  typical  head  to  have  been 
seized  with  the  unruliness  of  a  sworn  realist;  then 
suddenly  he  casts  off  that  mood,  abandons  himself 
to  ideal  visions  of  almost  supernatural  beauty,  and 
dreams  of  that  soft,  sweet  smile  which  seems  the 
reflection  of  an  inner  radiance.  He  feels  the  pictorial 
charm  of  superficial  things,  and  yet  has  the  mind  of 
a  man  of  science  and  an  anatomist.  Qualities,  which 
would  seem  incompatible,  are  combined  in  him,  i.  e.f 
the  enquirer's  unwearying  zeal  to  observe  and  collect 
and  the  most  subtle  artistic  sensibility. 

He  is  never  satisfied  to  judge  things,  as  a  painter, 
by  their  outward  appearance,  but  with  the  same 
passionate  interest  he  eagerly  explores  the  inner 
structure  and  the  conditions  of  life  in  every  creature. 
He  was  the  first  artist  who  systematically  examined 
the  proportions  of  the  body  in  men  and  animals,  and 
took  account  of  the  mechanical  conditions  in  walking, 
lifting,  climbing,  or  carrying,  and  he  was  also  the 
one  who  carried  out  the  most  comprehensive  physio- 
gnomical observations,  and  consistently  thought  out 
the  method  of  expressing  the  emotions. 

The  painter  is  to  him  the  keen  universal  eye,  which 
ranges  over  all  visible  things.  Suddenly,  the  inex- 
haustible treasure-house  of  the  universe  was  unlocked, 
and  Leonardo  seems  to  have  felt  himself  bound  by 
an  intense  love  to  every  form  of  life.  Vasari  relates 
a  characteristic  trait;  he  was  sometimes  seen  to  buy 
birds  in  the  market  in  order  to  set  them  at  liberty. 
The  fact  appears  to  have  made  a  great  impression  on 
the  Florentines. 


36        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


In  so  universal  an  art  there  are  no  higher  and  lower 
problems;  the  last  subtleties  of  chiaroscuro  are  not 
more  interesting  than  the  most  elementary  task  of 
giving  corporeal  shape  to  the  three  dimensions  on  the 
flat  surface,  and  the  artist,  who  made  the  human  face 
the  mirror  of  the  soul  with  unrivalled  skill,  can  still 
repeat  that  modelling  is  the  chief  consideration,  the 
very  soul  of  painting. 

Leonardo  had  so  many  new  conceptions  of  things 
that  he  was  forced  to  discover  new  technical  means  of 
expression.  He  became  an  experimentalist,  who  could 
hardly  ever  satisfy  himself.  He  is  said  to  have  con- 
sidered the  Mona  Lisa  unfinished  when  he  delivered 
it  to  the  owner.  Its  technique  is  a  mystery.  But 
where  the  work  is  quite  transparent,  as  in  the  ordinary 
silver-point  drawings,  which  all  belong  to  his  earlier 
period,  the  effect  is  none  the  less  astonishing.  It  may 
be  said  that  he  was  the  first  to  treat  line  sympatheti- 
cally. His  manner  of  making  his  outline  rise  and 
fall  in  waves  is  absolutely  unique.  He  compasses 
modelling  merely  by  parallel  straight  strokes;  it  is  as 
if  he  only  needed  to  stroke  the  surface  in  order  to 
bring  out  relief.  No  greater  result  was  ever  achieved 
by  simpler  means,  and  the  parallel  lines,  akin  to 
those  of  the  older  Italian  engravings,  give  an  inestima- 
ble homogeneity  of  effect  to  the  sheets.  We  have 
only  a  few  completed  works  by  Leonardo.  He  was 
an  indefatigable  observer  and  an  insatiable  student, 
always  setting  himself  new  problems,  but  it  seems  as 
if  he  only  wished  to  solve  them  for  himself.  He  did 
not  care  to  decide  or  definitely  complete  any  subject, 
and  the  problems  he  set  himself  were  so  enormous, 


Study  of  a  Girl's  Head,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 
(The  eyebrows  and  lines  on  lids  added  by  a  later  inferior  hand.) 


37 


38        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


that  he  may  well  have  considered  any  conclusions 
merely  provisional. 

I.  THE  LAST  SUPPER 

After  Raphael's  Sistine  Madonna,  Leonardo's 
Last  Supper  is  the  most  popular  picture  in  all  Italian 
Art.  It  is  so  simple  and  expressive  that  it  stamps  itself 
on  all  memories:  Christ  in  the  middle  of  a  long  table, 
the  Apostles  symmetrically  arranged  on  either  side  of 
Him.  He  has  said,  "One  among  you  shall  betray  me ! " 
and  this  unexpected  saying  throws  the  whole  assembly 
into  confusion.  He  alone  remains  calm,  and  keeps 
His  eyes  fixed  downwards,  and  His  silence  seems  to 
repeat  the  utterance:  "Yea,  it  is  so,  one  there  is 
among  you,  who  will  betray  me."  It  would  seem 
as  if  the  story  could  not  have  been  told  in  any  other 
way,  and  yet  everything  is  new  in  Leonardo's  picture, 
and  its  very  simplicity  is  the  triumph  of  the  highest 
art. 

If  we  look  back  at  the  preliminary  stages  in  the 
Quattrocento,  we  shall  find  it  well  represented  by 
Ghirlandajo's  Last  Supper  in  Ognissanti,  which  bears 
the  date  1480,  and  was  therefore  painted  some  fifteen 
years  earlier.  The  picture,  one  of  the  most  sterling 
works  of  the  master,  contains  the  old  typical  elements 
of  the  composition,  the  conventional  scheme  which 
came  down  to  Leonardo :  the  table  with  the  return  at 
either  end;  Judas  sitting  in  front  by  himself;  the 
twelve  others  in  a  row  behind;  St.  John,  asleep  by  the 
side  of  the  Lord,  his  arms  on  the  table.  Christ  has 
raised  His  right  hand,  and  is  speaking.  The  announce- 


40        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ment  of  the  treachery  must,  however,  have  been 
already  made,  for  the  disciples  are  full  of  consterna- 
tion; some  are  asserting  their  innocence,  and  Judas 
is  challenged  to  speak  by  St.  Peter.  Leonardo  has  at 
once  broken  with  tradition  in  two  points.  He  takes 
Judas  out  of  his  isolation,  placing  him  among  the 
rest,  and  abandons  the  incident  of  St.  John  lying  on 
his  Lord's  breast  (sleeping,  as  was  added  by  later 
tradition) ;  in  the  modern  way  of  sitting  this  incident 
must  have  always  produced  an  intolerable  effect. 
He  thus  obtained  a  more  perfect  uniformity  of  scene, 
and  the  disciples  could  be  symmetrically  divided  on 
each  side  of  the  Master.  The  necessity  for  a  tectonic 
arrangement  governs  him.  But  he  at  once  goes 
further,  and  forms  two  triad  groups  on  the  right  and 
on  the  left.  Thus  Christ  becomes  the  dominating 
central  figure,  differing  from  any  other.  In  Ghirlan- 
dajo's  work  there  is  an  assemblage  without  a  centre, 
a  juxtaposition  of  more  or  less  independent  half- 
length  figures,  enframed  between  the  two  great 
horizontal  lines  of  the  table,  and  of  the  wall  at  the 
back,  the  cornice  of  which  is  close  over  their  heads. 
Unfortunately  a  corbel  of  the  vaulted  roof  is  placed 
exactly  in  the  middle  of  the  wall.  What  does  Ghir- 
landajo  do?  He  moves  his  Christ  quietly  to  one  side, 
and  does  not  feel  any  hesitation  in  doing  so.  Leonardo, 
who  considered  it  most  important  to  bring  out  the 
chief  figure  prominently,  would  never  have  tolerated 
such  a  corbel.  On  the  contrary,  he  looks  for  new 
aids  to  his  object  in  the  formation  of  the  background; 
it  is  not  a  mere  accident  that  his  Christ  is  seated 
exactly  in  the  light  of  the  door  behind.    Then  he 


Leonardo 


4i 


breaks  away  from  the  tyranny  of  the  two  horizontal 
lines.  He  naturally  retains  that  of  the  table,  but  the 
silhouettes  of  the  groups  are  free  above.  Novel 
effects  are  aimed  at.  The  perspective  of  the  room, 
the  shape  and  decoration  of  the  walls,  are  made  to 
reinforce  the  effect  of  the  figures.  His  chief  preoc- 
cupation is  to  make  the  bodies  appear  plastic  and 
imposing.  Hence  the  depth  of  the  room,  and  the 
partitioning  of  the  wall  with  tapestried  panels.  The 
intersections  assist  the  plastic  illusion,  and  the  repeti- 
tion of  the  vertical  line  emphasises  the  divergence  of 
direction.  It  will  be  noticed  that  there  are  nothing 
but  small  surfaces  and  lines,  which  in  no  way  seriously 
distract  the  eye  from  the  figures.  A  painter  of  the 
older  generation  such  as  Ghirlandajo,  with  his  back- 
ground of  great  arches,  at  once  created  a  standard  of 
proportion  in  his  picture,  measured  by  which  the 
figures  necessarily  appear  insignificant.1  Leonardo, 
as  we  have  said,  retained  only  a  single  great  line,  the 
inevitable  line  of  the  table.  And  even  out  of  this  he 
made  something  new.  I  do  not  mean  the  omission 
of  the  rectangular  corners,  in  which  he  had  been 
anticipated ;  the  new  point  is  the  courageous  represen- 
tation of  the  impossible  in  order  to  secure  a  greater 
effect;  Leonardo's  table  is  far  too  small!    If  the 

1  The  outer  lines  of  Leonardo's  picture  do  not  correspond  with 
the  section  of  the  room;  there  is  a  considerable  space  above  the 
upper  edge  of  the  picture.  This  intersection  is  one  of  the  devices 
which  makes  it  possible  to  compose  with  large  figures  in  a  con- 
fined space,  without  a  cramped  effect.  Both  the  representation 
of  the  room  and  the  effect  aimed  at  by  this  motive  were  alien  to 
Quattrocento  tradition. 


42        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


covers  are  counted,  we  find  that  the  required  number 
could  not  possibly  be  seated.  Leonardo  wished  to 
avoid  the  dispersal  of  the  disciples  down  the  long 
table,  and  the  impressiveness  thus  given  to  the  figures 
has  such  force  that  no  one  notices  the  want  of  room. 
Thus  it  became  possible  to  bring  the  figures  into 
compact  groups,  and  keep  them  in  close  contact  with 
the  central  figure. 

And  what  groups  these  are!  What  action  they 
convey!  The  word  of  the  Lord  has  struck  like  a 
thunderbolt.  A  storm  of  passionate  feeling  bursts 
forth.  The  demeanour  of  the  disciples  is  not  undig- 
nified ;  they  bear  themselves  like  men  from  whom  their 
most  sacred  possession  is  to  be  taken  away.  An 
immense  fund  of  completely  new  expression  is  here 
added  to  Art,  and  when  Leonardo  works  on  the  same 
lines  as  his  predecessors,  .  it  is  the  unprecedented 
intensity  of  expression  which  makes  his  figures 
appear  unrivalled.  When  such  power  is  brought  into 
play,  it  is  obvious  that  many  pleasing  accessories  of 
conventional  art  are  necessarily  omitted.  Ghirlan- 
dajo  still  reckons  on  a  public  which  will  thoughtfully 
scrutinise  every  corner  of  a  picture,  and  must  be 
gratified  by  rare  garden-flowers,  birds,  and  other 
living  creatures.  He  devotes  much  care  to  the  service 
of  the  table,  and  counts  out  a  certain  number  of 
cherries  to  each  guest.  Leonardo  restricts  himself 
to  bare  essentials.  He  is  entitled  to  expect  that  the 
dramatic  interest  of  his  picture  will  prevent  the 
spectator  from  regretting  the  absence  of  such  minor 
attractions.  This  tendency  to  simplify  was  carried 
much  further  at  a  later  date. 


Leonardo 


43 


It  is  not  our  present  purpose  to  describe  in  detail 
the  figures  according  to  the  motives,  yet  we  must 
notice  the  scheme  observed  in  the  distribution  of  the 
characters. 

The  figures  at  the  edges  are  tranquil.  Two  profiles, 
absolutely  vertical,  enframe  the  whole.  These  repose- 
ful lines  are  maintained  in  the  second  group.  Then 
there  is  movement,  rising  to  a  mighty  crescendo  in 
the  groups  on  the  right  and  left  of  the  Saviour.  The 
figure  on  his  left  hand  throws  his  arms  out  widely  "as 
if  he  suddenly  saw  an  abyss  opening  before  him."  On 
the  right,  quite  close  to  the  Saviour,  Judas  recoils  with 
an  abrupt  gesture. 1  The  greatest  contrasts  are  juxta- 
posed.   St.  John  sits  in  the  same  group  with  Judas. 

The  manner  in  which  the  groups  are  contrasted, 
the  relation  they  bear  to  each  other,  and  their  skilful 
connection  in  the  foreground  on  the  one  side,  and  in 
the  background  on  the  other,  offer  matter  for  constant 
reflection  to  every  student,  all  the  more  that  intention 
is  so  skilfully  concealed  by  the  apparent  inevitability 
of  the  arrangement.  These  are,  however,  points  of 
secondary  importance  compared  with  the  one  great 
effect,  which  is  reserved  for  the  main  figure.  In  the 
midst  of  the  tumult  Christ  sits  motionless.  His  hands 
are  stretched  out  listlessly  with  the  gesture  of  one  who 
has  said  all  that  he  has  to  say.  He  is  not  speaking, 
as  He  is  in  every  earlier  picture;  He  does  not  even 
look  up,  but  His  silence  is  more  eloquent  than  words. 
It  is  that  terrible  silence,  which  leaves  no  hope. 

1  Goethe's  mistake,  which  has  since  been  repeated,  must  be 
corrected.  He  thought  that  St.  Peter's  movement  was  to  be 
explained  by  his  having  struck  Judas  in  the  side  with  a  knife. 


44        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


In  the  gesture  of  Jesus  and  in  His  form  there  is 
that  tranquil  grandeur  which  we  term  aristocratic, 
in  the  sense  akin  to  the  term  " noble.' '  The  epithet 
does  not  suggest  itself  before  the  work  of  any  Quattro- 
centist.  We  should  have  thought  that  Leonardo  had 
gone  for  his  model  to  a  different  class  of  men,  if  we 
did  not  know  that  he  himself  created  the  type.  He 
has  here  worked  out  the  best  of  his  own  nature,  and 
certainly  this  distinction  is  the  common  property  of 
the  Italian  race  of  the  sixteenth  century.  How  the 
Germans  from  Holbein  onwards  have  striven  to 
achieve  the  charm  of  such  a  gesture ! 

It  might,  however,  be  said  again  and  again  that  the 
point,  which  makes  the  Christ  in  this  picture  appear 
so  absolutely  different  from  the  older  presentations, 
is  not  completely  explained  by  His  form  and  mien, 
but  that  the  essential  difference  is  found  rather  in  the 
part  assigned  Him  in  the  composition.  The  unity  of 
the  scene  is  lacking  in  the  earlier  painters.  The  dis- 
ciples are  talking  together,  and  the  Saviour  is  speak- 
ing, and  it  is  open  to  question  whether  a  distinction 
has  always  been  made  between  the  announcement 
of  the  treachery  and  the  institution  of  the  Lord's 
Supper. 

In  any  case  it  was  quite  alien  to  the  Quattrocentist 
conception  to  make  the  utterance  of  the  speech  the 
motif  of  the  chief  figure.  Leonardo  was  the  first  to 
venture  to  do  so,  and  by  this  boldness  he  gains  the 
boundless  advantage  that  he  can  now  hold  fast  the 
dominant  tone  throughout  an  infinity  of  supplement- 
ary notes.  That  which  has  caused  the  outbreak  of 
excitement  still  continues  to  ring  in  our  ears.  The 


46        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


scene  is  at  once  momentary,  permanent,  and  ex- 
haustive. 

Raphael  is  the  one  master  who  has  grasped  Leo- 
nardo's meaning  here.  There  exists  a  Last  Supper 
of  his  school,  which  Marc  Antonio  has  engraved, 
where  Christ  is  depicted  in  a  psychologically  similar 
attitude,  motionless,  gazing  fixedly  before  Him. 
With  widely  opened  eyes  He  looks  into  space.  His 
is  the  only  full  face  in  the  picture,  an  absolutely 
vertical  line.1  Andrea  del  Sarto  appears  very  inferior 
by  contrast.  In  a  composition  of  much  pictorial 
beauty  he  chose  the  moment  when  the  traitor  is  made 
known,  by  the  dipping  of  the  sop,  and  thus  depicts 
Christ  as  turning  to  St.  John,  whose  hand  he  takes 
soothingly  into  his  own.  (Florence,  S.  Salvi.)  A 
beautiful  idea,  but  this  single  trait  destroys  the  domi- 
nation of  the  principal  figure  and  the  unity  of  feeling. 
Andrea  may  have  certainly  said  to  himself  that  it 
was  impossible  to  compete  with  Leonardo. 

Others  have  attempted  to  effect  a  new  result  by 
the  introduction  of  the  trivial;  in  Baroccio's  large 
Institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  (Urbino),  some  of  the 
disciples  during  the  speech  of  the  Saviour  are  ordering 
a  servant  in  the  foreground  to  bring  up  fresh  wine,  as 
if  there  were  some  question  of  drinking  a  health. 

There  is  one  last  remark  to  be  made  on  the  relation 
of  Leonardo's  picture  to  the  space  in  which  it  was 
painted.    As  is  well  known,  it  forms  the  decoration 

1  The  pen-and-ink  drawing  in  the  Albertina  (Fischel,  RaffaeVs 
Zeichnungen,  387),  which  is  now  correctly  ascribed  to  Giov.  F. 
Penni,  cannot  be  accepted  as  the  draw'ng  rnade  for  Marc 
Antonio's  engraving;  it  is  quite  different  in  composition. 


Leonardo 


47 


of  the  upper  end  of  a  long  narrow  refectory.  The 
room  is  lighted  only  from  one  side,  and  Leonardo 
took  the  existing  light  into  consideration,  in  determin- 
ing the  illumination  of  his  picture,  a  proceeding  by 
no  means  unique.  It  comes  from  high  on  the  left, 
and  partially  illuminates  the  opposite  wall  in  the 
picture.  The  differences  of  tone  in  the  light  and  shade 
are  so  marked  that  Ghirlandajo  seems  monotonous 
and  flat  in  comparison.  The  table  cloth  stands  out 
clearly,  and  the  heads  irradiated  with  the  light  are 
thrown  into  strong  relief  against  the  dark  wall.  One 
further  result  followed  from  this  acceptance  of  the 
actual  source  of  light.  Judas,  who  no  longer  sits 
apart  as  in  earlier  pictures,  but  is  introduced  among 
the  rest  of  the  disciples,  is  nevertheless  isolated.  He 
is  the  only  one  who  sits  quite  with  his  back  to  the 
light,  and  whose  features  are  therefore  in  shadow.  A 
simple  but  effective  means  of  characterisation,  which 
the  young  Rubens  perhaps  bore  in  mind,  when  he 
painted  his  Last  Supper,  now  in  the  Brera. 

2. — THE  MONA  LISA 

The  Quattrocentists  had  already  attempted  at 
various  times  to  go  beyond  the  mere  drawing  of  a 
model  in  a  portrait,  they  had  attempted  to  present 
something  more  than  the  sum  of  separate  features 
which  make  up  likeness,  to  show  more  than  the  per- 
manent fixed  forms  which  stamp  the  character. 
Something  of  the  spirit  of  the  hour,  some  indication 
of  the  passing  emotion  of  the  soul,  was  to  be  reflected 
on  the  face.    There  are  busts  of  young  girls  by  Desi^ 


48        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


derio  which  produce  this  effect  completely.  They 
are  smiling,  and  the  smile  is  not  stereotyped,  but 
seems  the  reflection  of  the  happy  moment.  Who  does 
not  know  these  young  Florentines  with  laughing 
mouths,  and  eyebrows  uplifted  above  eyes  which 
even  in  the  marble  seem  to  flash? 
  There  is  a  smile,  too, 


Bust  of  a  Florentine  Girl,  by       Pered  dialogue,  to  which 


The  brown  eyes  look  at  us  from  the  narrow  oval  of 
the  lids.  They  are  not  the  flashing  Quattrocentist 
eyes ;  their  glance  is  veiled.  The  lower  lids  run  almost 
horizontally  and  recall  the  Gothic  forms  of  eyes,  in 
which  this  motive  is  used  to  produce  the  effect  of 
fulness  and  liquidity.  The  whole  surface  under  the 
eyes  speaks  of  an  intense  sensitiveness,  of  delicate 


on  the  face  of  Mona 
Lisa,  but  only  a  faint 
smile;1  it  rests  m  the 
corners  of  the  mouth, 
and  ripples  almost  im- 
perceptibly over  the 
features.  Like  a  breath 
of  wind  which  ruffles 
the  water,  a  movement 
passes  over  the  soft 
contours  of  this  face. 
There  is  a  play  of  lights 
and  shadows,  a  whis- 


Desiderio. 


we  never  weary  of 
listening. 


1  Politian,  Giostra,  i.,  50 :    "  Lampeggio  d'un  dolce  e  vago  riso. n 


Leonardo 


49 


nerves  beneath  the  skin.  One  striking  trait  is  the 
absence  of  eyebrows.  The  curved  planes  of  the  eye- 
sockets  pass  without  any  sort  of  accentuation  into 
the  excessively  high  forehead.  This  is  no  individual 
peculiarity.  It  can  be  shown  from  a  passage  in  // 
Cortigiano 1  that  it  was  fashionable  for  ladies  to  pluck 
out  their  eyebrows.  It  was  also  considered  a  beauty 
to  show  a  wide  expanse  of  forehead,  and  therefore 
the  hair  on  the  front  of  the  head  was  sacrificed.  This 
accounts  for  the  immense  foreheads  in  the  statues  of 
young  girls  by  Mino  and  Desiderio.  The  delight  in 
the  modelling  of  the  white  surfaces,  which  the  chisel 
reproduced  so  tenderly  in  marble,  outweighed  every 
other  consideration.  The  natural  divisions  were 
eliminated  and  the  upper  parts  exaggerated  out  of  all 
measure.  The  style  of  the  Mona  Lisa  in  this  respect 
is  thoroughly  Quattrocentist.  The  fashion  changed 
immediately  afterwards.  The  forehead  was  made 
lower,  and  a  distinct  advance  is  noticeable  in  the 
rigorously  defined  eyebrows.  In  the  Madrid  copy 
of  the  Mona  Lisa  the  eyebrows  have  been  deliber- 
ately added.  Even  in  Leonardo's  own  drawings  (for 
example  in  the  beautiful  full-face  with  the  head  in- 
clined in  the  Uffizi)  they  have  been  inserted  by  a  later 
hand  (cf .  the  illustration  on  p.  37) .  The  hair,  chestnut 
brown  like  the  eyes,  falls  along  the  cheeks  in  graceful 
waves,  together  with  a  loose  veil  which  is  thrown  over 
the  head. 

The  lady  sits  in  an  arm-chair,  and  it  is  astounding 

1  Baldassare  Castiglione,  //  Cortigiano  (15 16).  It  is  said  there 
(in  Bk.  i.)  that  the  men  copy  the  women  in  plucking  out  the  hairs 
of  the  eyebrows  and  forehead  (pelarsi  le  ciglia  e  la  f route). 

4 


50        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


to  note  the  stiff  perpendicular  carriage  of  her  head  in 
the  midst  of  such  softness  of  execution.  She  clearly 
holds  herself  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day. 
An  upright  bearing  implied  distinction.  We  notice 
this  peculiarity  in  the  Tornabuoni  ladies  in  Ghir- 
landajo's  frescoes:  when  they  pay  visits  they  sit  bolt 
upright.  Popular  opinion  on  this  point  changed,  and 
the  altered  ideas  reacted  directly  on  the  position  of 
the  figures  in  portraits. 

For  the  rest,  the  picture  is  not  deficient  in  anima- 
tion. Here  Leonardo  passed  for  the  first  time  from 
the  bust  with  its  scanty  segment  of  the  body,  to  the 
three-quarters  length.  He  now  makes  the  model 
sit  in  profile,  giving  a  half-turn  to  the  head  and 
shoulders  and  bringing  the  face  full  to  the  front.  The 
action  of  the  arms  is  also  expressive.  The  one  rests 
on  the  arm  of  the  chair,  the  other  comes  foreshortened, 
from  the  background,  and  one  hand  is  laid  over  the 
other.  Leonardo  does  not  add  the  hands  as  a  mere 
superficial  enrichment  to  the  portrait.  Their  easy 
indolence  of  pose  adds  immensely  to  the  individuality 
of  the  sitter.  We  can  trace  the  delicacy  of  the  sense 
of  touch  in  these  truly  soulful  fingers.  Verrocchio 
anticipated  Leonardo  here,  in  introducing  the  hands 
even  in  his  busts. 

The  costume  is  fastidiously  simple,  almost  prim. 
The  line  of  the  bodice  must  have  seemed  hard  to  a 
riper  Cinquecentist.  The  pleated  gown  is  green,  of 
that  green  which  Luini  retains;  the  sleeves,  a  yellow- 
brown;  not,  as  formerly,  short  and  narrow,  but  reach- 
ing to  the  wrists,  and  crumpled  into  many  transverse 
folds,  they  form  an  effective  accompaniment  to  the 


Portrait  of  Mona  Lisa,  by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 
51 


52        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


rounded  compact  surfaces  of  the  hands.  The  shapely 
fingers  are  not  burdened  by  any  rings.  The  neck  too 
is  without  any  ornament. 

The  background  consists  of  a  landscape,  as  in  the 
works  of  older  painters.  But  it  is  not,  as  formerly, 
immediately  connected  with  the  figure;  there  is  a 
balustrade  between,  and  the  view  is  enframed  by  two 
pillars.  It  requires  minute  inspection  to  detect  this 
motive,  which  is  not  unimportant  in  its  consequences, 
for  the  pillars  have  the  appearance  of  mere  narrow 
stripes,  save  at  the  bases.  The  later  style  was  not 
long  content  with  such  suggestive-drawing.1  The 
landscape  itself,  which  stretches  away  towards  the 
top  of  the  picture  above  the  level  of  the  sitter's  eyes, 
is  of  a  strange  kind;  fantastically  peaked  mountain- 
labyrinths,  with  lakes  and  streams  in  the  foreground. 
The  strange  result  of  the  shadowy  execution  is,  that 
the  background  has  a  dream-like  effect.  Its  reality 
is  of  a  different  degree  to  that  of  the  figure,  and  this 
is  no  caprice,  but  a  means  of  achieving  the  impression 
of  corporeality.  Leonardo  here  applies  certain 
theories  as  to  the  appearance  of  distant  objects 
which  he  has  discussed  in  his  treatise  on  painting 
(Trattato  delta  Pittura,  No.  128,  201).  The  con- 
sequence is  that  in  the  Salon  Carre  of  the  Louvre, 
where  the  Mona  Lisa  hangs,  everything  else,  even 
pictures  of  the  seventeenth  century,  seem  flat  by 
comparison.  The  gradations  of  colour  in  the  land- 
scape are  precisely  the  same  as  in  Perugino's  Apollo 

1  Cf.  the  sketch  for  the  Maddalena  Doni  by  Raphael  in  the 
Louvre. 


Leonardo 


53 


and  '  Marsyas — brown,  greenish-blue,  ana  bluish- 
green  into  which  the  blue  sky  blends. 

Leonardo  called  modelling  the  soul  of  painting. 
It  is  before  the  Mona  Lisa,  if  anywhere,  that  the 
meaning  of  this  dictum  may  be  learnt.  The  soft 
undulations  of  the  surface  become  a  living  fact,  as  if 
the  observer  himself  were  gliding  over  them  with  a 
spirit-hand.  The  aim  in  view  is  as  yet  not  sim- 
plicity, but  complexity.  Anyone  who  has  studied  the 
picture  repeatedly  will  agree  that  it  calls  for  close 
inspection.  At  a  distance  it  soon  loses  its  real  effect. 
(This  is  true  also  of  photographs.)  It  is  in  this  re- 
spect that  it  is  principally  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
later  portraits  of  the  Cinquecento,  and  in  a  certain 
sense  it  represents  the  conclusion  of  a  tendency 
which  had  its  beginnings  in  the  fifteenth  century,  the 
completion  of  that  "subtle"  style,  to  which  the  mas- 
ters of  plastic  art  above  all  devoted  their  energies. 
The  neo- Florentine  school  did  not  sympathise  with 
this.  It  was  only  in  Lombardy  that  its  delicate 
threads  were  gathered  up  and  continued.1 

3. — ST.  ANNE  WITH  THE  VIRGIN  AND  THE  INFANT  CHRIST 

In  comparison  with  the  Mona  Lisa,  Leonardo's 
other  picture  in  the  Salon  Carre,  the  St.  Anne  with 

1  It  has  been  frequently  felt  that  the  Belle  Ferroniere  (Louvre) 
is  not  in  harmony  with  Leonardo's  work.  This  fine  picture  has 
lately,  by  way  of  experiment,  been  ascribed  to  Boltrafno.  It 
may  be  remarked  that  the  figures  of  the  saints  at  the  feet  of  the 
Risen  Lord  in  Berlin  may  belong  to  this  same  Boltrafho;  its 
affinity  to  the  Madonna  with  the  Child,  a  half  length,  in  the 
National  Gallery,  is  obvious.  It  extends  even  to  the  pattern 
of  the  flowered  robe  of  St.  Leonard. 


54       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  Virgin  and  the  Infant  Christ,  fails  to  attract  the 
sympathies  of  the  public.  This  picture,  which  was 
perhaps  not  entirely  the  work  of  Leonardo's  own  hand, 
has  deteriorated  in  colour,  and  the  essential  merit 
of  the  drawing  is  little  valued  and  hardly  perceived  by 
modern  eyes.  And  yet  in  its  time  (1501)  the  mere 
cartoon  caused  great  excitement  in  Florence,  so  that 
there  was  a  general  pilgrimage  to  the  monastery  of 
the  Annunziata,  where  Leonardo's  new  miracle  was 
to  be  seen.1  The  theme  might  have  been  barren 
enough.  We  remember  the  chilly  combination  of  the 
three  figures  in  the  older  masters,  one  in  the  lap  of 
the  other,  and  all  facing  the  spectator.  Out  of  this 
unattractive  arrangement  Leonardo  developed  a 
group  of  the  richest  beauty,  and  the  lifeless  frame- 
work was  transformed  into  a  motive  of  the  liveliest 
animation. 

Mary  sits  diagonally  on  the  lap  of  her  mother;  she 
bends  forward  smilingly  and  with  both  hands  seizes 
the  boy  at  their  feet,  who  is  trying  to  bestride 
a  lamb.  The  Child  looks  round  enquiringly;  He 
grasps  the  poor  shrinking  animal  firmly  by  the  head, 
and  has  already  thrown  one  leg  across  its  back.  The 
(youthful)  grandmother  also  looks  on  smilingly  at  the 
merry  sport. 

The  problems  of  grouping  attacked  in  the  Last 
Supper  are  further  developed  here.  The  composition 
is  most  inspiriting;  much  is  said  in  a  limited  space; 
all  the  figures  show  a  contrast  of  movement  and  the 

1  The  cartoon  no  longer  exists.  The  execution  of  the  picture 
took  place  much  later.    Cf.  Gazette  des  Beaux-Arts,  1897  (Cook). 


Leonardo  55 

conflicting  directions  are  brought  together  into  a 
compact  form.    It  will  be  noticed  that  the  whole 


St.  Anne  with  the  Virgin  and  the  Infant  Christ, 
by  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 


group  may  be  contained  in  an  equilateral  triangle. 
This  is  the  first  of  efforts,  which  have  been  already 
noticed  in  the  Madonna  of  the  Rocks,  to  arrange  the 
composition  according  to  simple  geometrical  forms. 


56        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


But  how  loose  is  the  effect  of  the  older  work  as  com- 
pared with  the  compact  richness  of  the  St.  Anne 
group !  It  was  no  artistic  caprice  which  led  Leonardo 
to  pack  more  and  more  action  into  a  continually 
diminishing  space;  the  strength  of  the  impression 
increases  in  proportion.  The  only  difficulty  was  to 
prevent  any  injury  to  the  clarity  and  repose  of  the 
representation.  This  was  the  stone,  on  which  the 
weaker  imitators  stumbled.  Leonardo  attained  a 
perfect  lucidity,  and  the  chief  motive,  the  inclination 
of  Mary's  body,  is  irresistibly  human  and  beautiful. 
All  the  unmeaning  prettiness  by  which  the  Quattro- 
cento was  so  often  beguiled,  has  here  melted  away 
before  an  unparalleled  power  of  expression.  It  is 
well  to  realise  in  detail  the  conditions  under  which 
the  lines  of  the  shoulder  and  of  the  neck  are  developed 
— light  against  dark — in  all  their  marvellous  bloom 
and  brilliance.  How  quiet  and  how  forceful!  The 
reticent  figure  of  Anne  forms  an  excellent  contrast, 
and  at  the  bottom  the  boy,  with  his  upturned  face 
and  his  lamb,  rounds  off  the  group  most  happily. 

There  is  a  small  picture  of  Raphael's  in  Madrid 
which  reflects  the  impression  made  by  this  com- 
position. As  a  young  man  at  Florence  he  attempted 
to  work  out  a  similar  problem — taking  St.  Joseph  in 
place  of  St.  Anne — but  with  very  poor  success.  How 
wooden  is  the  lamb!  Raphael  never  became  an 
animal-painter,  while  Leonardo  succeeded  in  all  he 
attempted.  (In  the  Alba  Madonna  he  afterwards 
more  successfully  adopted  the  motive  of  Leonardo's  . 
Mary  in  the  turn  of  the  head.)  But  a  stronger  rival 
than  Raphael  entered  the  lists  against  Leonardo  in 


Leonardo 


57 


the  person  of  Michelangelo.  Of  this  we  shall  speak 
later. 

There  are  no  traces  here  of  the  grasses,  the  flowers, 
and  the  shimmering  pools  of  the  Madonna  of  the 
Rocks.  The  figures  are  everything.  They  are  life- 
size.  But  more  important  to  the  impression  than  the 
absolute  scale  of  size,  is  the  relation  of  the  figures  to 
the  space.  They  fill  the  canvas  more  effectually  than 
formerly,  or,  to  put  it  differently,  the  canvas  is  here 
smaller  in  proportion  to  the  contents.  This  is  the 
scale  of  dimensions  which  became  typical  of  the 
Cinquecento.1 

4. — THE  BATTLE  OF  ANGHIARI 

1 

Of  the  battle-scene  which  was  intended  for  the 
Council  Chamber  at  Florence  we  can  say  but  little, 
since  the  composition  no  longer  exists  even  in  the  car- 
toon, but  only  in  an  incomplete  copy  by  a  later  hand. 
It  cannot,  however,  be  passed  over,  for  the  whole 
question  of  its  origin  is  full  of  interest.  Leonardo  had 
studied  horses  more  perhaps  than  any  other  Cinque- 
centist.    He  was  familiar  with  the  animal  from  habitual 

1  The  impression  made  on  contemporaries  is  clearly  depicted 
in  a  report  of  Fra  Piero  di  Novellara  to  the  Marchesa  of  Mantua 
dated  April  3,  1501,  where  he  speaks  thus  of  the  cartoon  in  this 
connection:  "These  figures  are  life-size,  but  stand  on  a  small 
canvas,  because  all  are  either  seated  or  bending  forward,  and  one 
rather  in  front  of  the  other."  (Archivio  storico  delV  Arte,  i.) 
The  London  cartoon  (Royal  Academy)  of  a  group  of  two  women 
with  two  boys  does  not  possess  the  same  charm,  and  might  well 
be  a  slightly  earlier  and  less  limpid  composition.  It  plays  its 
part  again  in  Leonardo's  school.    (Luini,  Ambrosiana.) 


58        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


intercourse.1  He  was  occupied  at  Milan  for  years 
in  designing  an  equestrian  statue  of  Duke  Francesco 
Sforza,  a  figure  which  was  never  cast,  though  a  com- 
pleted model  of  it  once  existed,  the  disappearance  of 
which  must  be  reckoned  among  the  great  losses  of 
art.  As  regards  the  motive,  he  seems  at  first  to  have 
intended  to  surpass  Verrocchio's  Colleoni  in  move- 
ment: he  achieved  the  type  of  the  galloping  horse, 
which  has  a  prostrate  foeman  at  its  feet ;  the  same 
idea  which  occurred  to  Antonio  Pollaiuolo.2 

The  misgiving,  which  has  been  expressed  now  and 
again,  that  Leonardo's  figure  might  have  become  too 
pictorial,  can,  if  it  is  at  all  justified,  only  refer  to 
sketches  of  this  kind ;  in  any  case  his  idea  of  the  pranc- 
ing horse  cannot  be  looked  upon  as  definitive ;  on  the 
contrary,  in  the  course  of  the  work  a  gradual  advance 
towards  repose  and  simplicity  seems  to  have  taken 
place  similar  to  that  which  may  be  observed  in  the 
sketches  for  the  Last  Supper.  Leonardo  ended  by 
representing  the  horse  stepping  forward,  and  thus 
modifying  the  marked  opposition  of  direction  in  the 
turn  of  the  head  of  horse  and  rider.  We  still  find  the 
arm  with  the  baton  somewhat  bent  backwards,  by 
which  contrivance  Leonardo  wished  to  enrich  the 
silhouette,  and  to  fill  up  the  empty  right-hand  corner 
at  the  back  of  the  rider.3 

1  Vasari,  iv.,  21. 

2  Ibid.,  iii.,  297.    Cf.  drawing  in  Munich. 

3  The  results  of  the  latest  researches  connected  with  the 
Milanese  monument,  and  with  a  later  mounted  figure  with  a 
tomb  beneath,  for  General  Trivulzio,  are  recorded  by  Miiller- 
Walde  in  the  Jahrbuch  der  Preussischen  Kunstsammlungen,  1897. 


Leonardo 


59 


A  sketch  in  the  Louvre,  ascribed  to  Rubens,  is  the 
only  original  document  from  which  we  may  gather  a 
true  notion  of  that  great  battle-picture  of  the  Floren- 
tine Council  Chamber,  in  which  Leonardo  turned 
his  Milanese  studies  to  account.  As  is  well  known, 
Edelingk  engraved  an  excellent  plate  from  it.1  It  is 
hard  to  say  how  far  the  drawing  may  be  considered 
trustworthy  in  detail,  but  it  corresponds  in  essentials 
to  the  description  Vasari  gives  of  it. 

Leonardo  intended  once  for  all  to  show  the  Floren- 
tines how  to  draw  horses.  He  took  a  cavalry  episode 
as  the  chief  motive  of  his  battle-piece :  the  Fight  for 
the  Standard.  Four  horses  and  four  riders  in  the  most 
violent  excitement  and  the  closest  juxtaposition.  The 
problem  of  plastic  richness  of  grouping  has  here 
reached  a  height  which  almost  verges  on  indistinct- 
ness. The  northern  engraver's  interpretation  of  the 
picture  from  the  pictorial  side,  is  that  a  border  of 
lights  would  have  surrounded  a  dark  central  passage, 
an  arrangement  with  which  we  may  certainly  credit 
Leonardo  in  the  first  instance. 

The  representation  of  crowded  masses  was  then  the 
real  " modern"  task.  It  is  surprising  that  battle- 
pictures  are  not  more  often  met  with.  The  school 
of  Raphael  is  the  only  one  which  produced  a  large 
work  of  the  sort  and  the  Battle  of  Constantine  re- 
presents the  one  classical  battle-piece  in  the  concep- 
tion of  the  West.    Art  has  advanced  from  the  mere 

1 1  do  not  venture  to  give  an  opinion  as  to  Rubens's  authorship 
of  the  drawing  in  the  Louvre.  Rooses  emphatically  supports  it. 
In  any  case  Rubens  was  familiar  with  the  composition.  His 
Lion  Hunt  at  Munich  clearly  proves  this. 


6o        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


episode  to  the  representation  of  real  masses  in  action, 
but  if  the  famous  picture  by  this  means  shows  far 
more  than  Leonardo  did,  it  is,  on  the  other  hand,  so 
fettered  by  indistinctness  of  conception  that  the 
coarsening  of  taste  and  the  decay  of  art  are  already 
apparent.  Raphael  had  certainly  nothing  to  do  with 
this  composition. 

Leonardo  left  no  school  behind  in  Florence.  All 
indeed  learnt  from  him,  but  his  influence  was  dimmed 
by  that  of  Michelangelo.  It  is  obvious  that  Leonardo 
developed  the  idea  of  large  figures;  the  figure  finally 
became  all  in  all  for  him.  Nevertheless  Florence 
would  have  had  a  different  physiognomy,  had  she 
been  more  Leonardesque.  The  (races  of  Leonardo 
that  survive  in  Andrea  del  Sarto  or  in  Franciabigio 
and  Bugiardini  signify  on  the  whole  very  little.  A 
direct  continuation  of  his  art  is  only  found  in  Lom- 
bardy,  and  even  here  it  is  a  partial  one.  The  Lom- 
bards are  artistically  gifted  but  they  are  entirely 
wanting  in  a  sense  of  the  architectonic.  Not  one 
of  them  ever  understood  the  structure  of  the  Last 
Supper.  Leonardo's  grouping  and  his  crowded  move- 
ment were  unfamiliar  problems  to  them.  The  more 
vivacious  temperaments  among  the  Milanese  became 
confused  and  wild  when  they  attempted  movement; 
the  others  are  wearisome  in  their  uniformity.  It  is 
typical  of  the  art  of  the  Milanese  that  they  could  treat 
the  Beheading  of  John  the  Baptist  as  still-life;  placing 
the  severed  head  neatly  on  an  agate-dish.  (Picture 
by  Solario  in  the  Louvre,  1507.)  This  would  have 
been  inconceivable  in  Florence.  And  equally  so  the 
crudeness  with  which  in  another  case  a  naked  arm 


Leonardo 


61 


without  any  figure  belonging  to  it  protrudes  from 
behind  the  frame  to  present  the  severed  head  to 
Salome.  This  was  done  by  Luini  (Milan,  Borromeo). 
In  such  districts  the  soil  is  not  favourable  to  great  art. 
What  the  Lom- 
bards assimi- 
lated was  the 
feminine  side 
of  Leonardo's 
art,  the  passive 
emotions,  and 
the  delicately 
suggested  mod- 
elling of  youth- 
ful forms,  espe- 
cially female 
forms.  Leo- 
nardo was  highly 
susceptible  to 
the  beauty  of 
the  female  form. 
He  it  was  who 

first  perceived  Abundantia,  by  Gianpietrino. 

the  softness  of 

the  skin.  It  is  therefore  surprising  that  the  nude  is  not 
more  frequent  in  his  pictures.  The  femininely  delicate 
St.  John  in  the  Louvre  (the  authenticity  of  which  indeed 
is  not  beyond  suspicion),  is  not  a  favourite;  most  peo- 
ple will  feel  a  desire  for  less  ambiguous  female  forms. 
The  Leda  with  the  swan  would  have  been  the  ideal 
picture.  It  is  known  only  from  drawings  and  imita- 
tions, in  the  two  versions,  standing  and  crouching. 


62        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


(Cf.  Jahrbuch  der  Preussischen  Kunstsamrnlungen, 
189)  (Miiller- Walde) .  In  both  the  action  is  of  con- 
summate interest.  The  Lombard  followers,  however, 
studied  only  the  treatment  of  the  surfaces,  and  were 
quite  content  with  the  half-length  figure  as  a  design. 
Even  the  subject  of  Susanna  at  the  Bath,  where  if  any- 
where a  richly  modelled  figure  might  reasonably  be 
expected,  is  restricted  to  this  barren  design.  (Picture 
by  Luini  in  Milan,  Borromeo.)  The  unpretentious 
half-length  Abundantia  by  Gianpietrino  may  be  given 
here  as  a  type  of  such  works.1 

'-  The  picture  is  in  the  Borromeo  Gallery  in  Milan.  It  should 
be  compared  with  Leonardo's  Mona  Lisa.  Cf.  also  the  rough 
life-study  in  the  St.  Petersburg  Gallery,  which  shows  a  model  in 
the  attitude  of  the  Mona  Lisa,  but  with  none  of  Leonardo's 
art.  "It  is  inconceivable  how  Waagen  could  have  taken  this 
miserable  pasticcio  for  a  study  of  Leonardo's." — F.  Harck, 
Repertorium,  xix.,  421. 


Ill 


MICHELANGELO  (to  1520) 
1475-1564 

Michelangelo  overwhelmed  Italian  art  like  a 
mighty  mountain-torrent,  at  once  fertilising  and 
destructive;  irresistible  in  impression,  carrying  every- 
thing away  with  him,  he  became  a  liberator  to  few, 
a  destroyer  to  many.  From  the  first  moment  Michel- 
angelo was  a  complete  personality,  almost  terrible  in 
his  isolation.  His  conception  of  the  world  was  that  cf 
a  sculptor,  and  of  a  sculptor  alone.  What  interested 
him  was  the  definite  form,  and  the  human  body 
alone  seemed  to  him  worthy  of  representation.  The 
complexity  of  things  did  not  exist  for  him.  His 
humanity  was  not  the  humanity  of  this  world  differ- 
entiated in  thousands  of  individuals,  but  a  race  in 
itself,  a  genus  that  approached  the  gigantic. 

In  contrast  to  Leonardo's  joyousness,  Michelangelo 
stands  before  us  as  the  lonely  figure,  the  scorncr  to 
whom  the  world  as  it  is  offers  nothing.  Once  indeed 
he  drew  an  Eve,  a  woman  in  all  the  superb  beauty  of 
luxuriant  nature.  For  a  moment  he  retained  the 
image  of  indolent  soft  loveliness,  but  only  for  a 
moment;  consciously  or  unconsciously  all  that  he 
created  was  steeped  in  bitterness. 

His  style  aims  at  concentration,  at  massive  con- 
centrated effects.    The  widely  comprehensive,  un- 

63 


64        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


defined  outline  repelled  him.  The  condensed  method 
of  arrangement,  restraint  in  demeanour,  were  the 
outcome  of  temperament  with  him. 

The  vigour  of  his  grasp  of  form  and  the  clearness  of 
his  inward  conception  are  absolutely  incomparable. 
There  is  no  groping,  no  uncertainty;  with  the  first 
stroke  he  gives  the  definite  expression.  Sketches  by 
him  have  a  strangely  penetrating  power.  They  are 
impregnated  with  form;  every  trace  of  the  inner 
structure,  the  mechanism  of  movement,  seems  to 
have  been  transmuted  into  expression.  Thus  he 
forces  the  spectator  to  share  directly  in  his  feelings. 

And  it  is  marvellous  how  every  turn,  every  bend 
of  the  limbs  has  a  mysterious  power.  Very  trifling 
changes  of  position  work  with  inconceivable  force, 
and  the  impression  is  often  so  great  that  we  do  not 
inquire  into  the  motives  of  the  action.  It  is  a  charac- 
teristic of  Michelangelo  that  he  strains  his  means 
remorselessly  to  secure  the  greatest  possible  results. 
He  enriched  Art  with  unsuspected  new  effects,  but 
he  also  impoverished  her,  by  taking  from  her  her 
pleasure  in  the  simplicity  of  everyday  life.  It  is 
through  him  that  the  unharmonious  found  its  way 
into  the  Renaissance.  By  his  conscious  employment 
of  dissonance  on  a  large  scale,  he  prepared  the  ground 
for  a  new  style,  the  baroque.  We  shall  not  discuss 
this  till  later.  The  works  of  the  first  half  of  his  life 
(to  1520)  speak  another  language. 

I. — EARLY  WORKS 

The  Pieta  is  the  first  great  work  from  which  we  can 
judge  Michelangelo's  aims.    It  is  at  present  most 


Michelangelo  65 

barbarously  placed  in  a  chapel  of  St.  Peter's,  where 
neither  the  delicacy  of  the  details  nor  the  charm  of  the 
action  can  be  felt.    The  group  is  lost  in  the  vast  space, 


Pieta,  by  Michelangelo. 

and  is  raised  so  high  that  it  is  impossible  to  get  the 
chief  point  of  view. 

To  combine  into  a  group  two  life-sized  bodies  in 
marble  was  something  new  in  itself,  and  the  task  of 
placing  the  body  of  a  full-grown  man  on  the  lap  of  the 
seated  woman,  was  one  of  the  most  difficult  imaginable. 
We  might  expect  a  hard  horizontal  line  of  intersection, 


5 


66        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  harsh  right  angles;  Michelangelo  accomplished 

what  no  other 
artist  then  living 
could  have  done. 

By  a  series  of 
wonderful  bends 
and  turns,  the 
lines  of  the 
bodies  are 
brought  into  an 
easy  harmony. 
Mary  supports, 
and  yet  is  not 
crushed  by,  the 
burden ;  the 
corpse  stands 
out  clearly  on  all 
sides  and  is  also 
full  'of  expression 
in  every  line. 
The  contraction 
of  the  shoulders 
and  the  back- 
ward droop  of 
the  head  give  an 
accent  of  agony 
of  incomparable 
force  to  the  dead 
figure.  The 
Virgin's  attitude 

is  still  more  surprising.  The  tearful  countenance,  the 
distortion  of  sorrow,  the  fainting  form,  had  been  por- 


The  Madonna  of  Bruges,  by  Michelangelo. 


Michelangelo 


67 


t rayed  by  others. 
God  shall  not 
weep  like  an 
earthly  woman. 
She  bends  her 
head  calmly;  the 
features  betray  no 
emotion  and  only 
the  drooping  left 
hand  is  eloquent : 
half-opened,  it  ac- 
centuates  the 
mute  monologue 
of  pain. 

This  is  the  sen- 
timent  of  the 
Cinquecent  o. 
Even  the  Christ 
shows  none  of  the 
disfigurement    o  f 
suffering.   On  the 
former  side  the 
traces  of  Florence 
and  the  style  of 
the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury are  more 
obvious.  The 
head  of  Mary  is, 
indeed,  like  no 
other,  but  it  is 
of  the  delicate  narrow  type, 
Florentines.    The    bodies  are 


Michelangelo  says :  The  Mother  of 


Madonna  and 


Child,  by 
Majano. 


Benedetto 


preferred  by  the  older 
in  a  similar  style. 


68        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Michelangelo  soon  afterwards  becomes  broader  and 
fuller,  and  even  the  actual  grouping  of  these  .figures 
would  have  afterwards  seemed  to  him  too  slight,  too 
transparent,  too  loose.  The  corpse,  more  heavily 
modelled,  jvould  have  been  a  greater  burden,  the 
lines  would  not  have  diverged  so  widely,  and  the 
two  figures  would  have  been  combined  into  a  more 
compact  mass. 

A  somewhat  obtrusive  richness  prevails  in  the 
draperies.  There  are  bright  ridges  of  folds,  and  deep 
shadowy  hollows,  which  the  sculptors  of  the  Cinque- 
cento  gladly  took  as  models.  The  marble,  as  later 
also,  is  highly  polished,  producing  intensely  brilliant 
lights.  There  is,  on  the  other  hand,  no  longer  any 
trace  of  gilding. 

Closely  connected  with  the  Pieta  is  the  seated 
figure  of  the  Madonna  of  Bruges, 1  a  work  which  went 
out  of  the  country  immediately  after  its  completion, 
and  therefore  left  no  marked  traces  in  Italy,  al- 
though the  completely  new  problem  treated  in  it 
would  have  made  the  greatest  impression. 

The  seated  Madonna  with  the  Child,  the  endlessly 
varied  theme  of  the  altar-picture,  is  rarely  found 
among  the  Florentines  as  a  plastic  group.  It  is  more 
frequent  in  clay  than  in  marble,  and  the  material, 
unattractive  in  itself,  was  usually  elaborately  painted. 
But  with  the  sixteenth  century  the  use  of  clay  be- 
came less  popular.  Increased  pretensions  to  monu- 
mentally could  only  be  satisfied  in  stone,  and  when 

1  The  figure  shows  in  subordinate  parts  a  second  weaker  hand. 
Michelangelo  seems  to  have  left  it  behind  unfinished  on  his 
second  journey  to  Rome  in  1505. 


Michelangelo 


69 


clay  was  still  used,  as  in  Lombardy,  it  was  left  un- 
coloured  by  preference. 

Michelangelo  at  once  diverges  from  all  the  older 
representations  by  taking  the  Child    out    of  the 


Madonna  with  the  Book.    Relief  by  Michelangelo. 


Mother's  lap  and  placing  Him,  a  figure  of  considerable 
size  and  strength,  between  her  knees,  clambering 
about.  He  was  enabled  by  this  motive  of  the  Child, 
standing  upright  and  moving,  to  give  new  interest  to 
the  group,  and  as  a  direct  consequence,  the  variety  of 
effect  was  also  enhanced  by  the  unequal  level  of  the 
feet  of  the  sitting  figure. 


70        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  Boy  is  occupied  with  a  child-like  game,  but 
He  is  serious,  far  more  serious  than  He  had  been  even 
when  He  was  in  act  of  blessing.  Similarly,  the  Ma- 
donna is  thoughtful,  mute;  none  would  venture  to 
address  her.  A  grave,  almost  solemn  earnestness 
broods  over  them  both.  This  manifestation  of  a 
new  awe  and  reverence  for  sacred  things  must  be  com- 
pared with  figures  so  fully  expressive  of  Quattrocento 
sentiment  as  the  terra-cotta  group  by  Benedetto  da 
Majano  in  the  Berlin  Museum.  We  feel  convinced 
that  we  have  already  seen  this  worthy  dame  some- 
where, good-naturedly  managing  her  household,  and 
the  Child  is  a  merry  little  urchin.  He  certainly  lifts 
His  hand  to  bless,  but  there  is  no  need  to  take  the 
matter  seriously.  The  mirthfulness  which  lights  up 
the  faces  and  smiles  from  the  speaking  eyes  is  quite 
quenched  in  Michelangelo's  figures.  The  head  of  his 
Virgin  is  as  little  suggestive  of  a  middle-class  woman 
as  is  her  dress  of  worldly  pomp  and  magnificence. 

The  spirit  of  a  new  art  sounds  strongly  and  audibly, 
with  long-drawn  chords,  in  the  Madonna  of  Bruges. 
Indeed  it  may  be  said  that  the  vertical  pose  of  the 
head  alone  is  a  motive  which  in  its  grandeur  tran- 
scends any  product  of  the  Quattrocento. 

In  one  very  early  work,  the  small  relief  with  the 
Madonna  on  the  Steps,  Michelangelo  had  tried  to 
realise  a  similar  conception.  He  wished  to  represent 
the  Madonna  gazing  into  vacancy  with  the  Child 
asleep  against  her  breast.  His  absolutely  uncon- 
ventional purpose  is  apparent  in  the  still  timid  sketch. 
Now,  in  full  possession  of  the  required  expression  he 
once  more  reverts  to  the  motive  in  a  relief,  the  un- 


Michelangelo  71 

finished  tondo  in  the  Bargello;  the  Child,  tired  and 
serious,  resting  on  the  Mother,  and  Mary,  like  a 
prophe'.ess,  gazing  out  of  the  composition,  upright 
and  full-faced.    The  relief  is  noteworthy  also  from 


Holy  Family,  by  Michelangelo. 


another  aspect.  A  new  ideal  of  the  female  form  is 
evolved,  a  more  forceful  type,  which  entirely  abandons 
the  early  Florentine  delicacy:  large  eyes,  full  cheeks, 
a  strong  chin.  New  motives  in  the  drapery  enforce 
the  impression.  The  neck  is  exposed,  and  the  im- 
portant tectonic  attachments  are  emphasised.  The 
impression  of  forcefulness  is  supported  by  a  new  way 
of  filling  the  space,  with  the  figures  touching  the 


72        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


frame.  No  longer  the  flickering  profusion  of  an 
Antonio  Rossellino,  with  its  unceasing  undulation  of 
light  and  shade,  from  the  great  projections  down  to 
the  last  ripples  of  the  surface,  but  a  few  impressive 
accents.  Once  more  the*  strict  vertical  of  the  head 
strikes  as  it  were  the  keynote  of  the  whole. 

The  Florentine  tablet  has  a  pendant  in  London,  a 
scene  of  the  most  charming  invention  and  of  a  per- 
fected beauty  which  only  flashes  forth  momentarily 
in  Michelangelo  in  exceptional  cases. 

How  strange  in  comparison  is  the  joyless  Holy 
Family  of  the  Tribuna,  and  how  strongly  opposed  to 
the  long  series  of  Quattrocento  Holy  Families!  The 
Madonna  is  a  masculine  woman  with  mighty  bones, 
her  arms  and  feet  bare.  Her  legs  bent  under  her, 
she  crouches  on  the  ground  and  reaches  over  her 
shoulder  for  the  Child,  whom  Joseph,  seated  in  the 
background,  hands  to  her — a  tangle  of  figures, 
curiously  crowded  in  action.  This  is  neither  the 
maternal  Mary  (this  is  indeed  never  found  in  Michel- 
angelo's work),  nor  the  solemn  Virgin,  but  merely  the 
heroine.  The  contradiction  to  the  treatment  de- 
manded by  the  subject  is  too  marked  for  the  ob- 
server not  at  once  to  notice  that  the  artist  here  aimed 
at  the  mere  representation  of  an  interesting  motif 
and  at  the  solution  of  a  definite  problem  of  com- 
position. The  picture  was  painted  to  order;  there 
may  be  some  truth  in  Vasari's  anecdote  that  Angelo 
Doni,  who  gave  the  commission,  made  some  diffi- 
culties about  accepting  it.  In  his  portrait  by  Raphael 
he  looks  as  if  he  would  not  have  been  easily  attracted 
by  the  ideal  'Tart  pour  Tart. " 


Michelangelo 


73 


The  artistic  problem  was  clearly  this:  how  is  it 
possible  to  express  the  greatest  amount  of  action  in  a 
very  limited  space?  The  real  value  of  the  picture 
lies  in  its  concentrated  plastic  richness.  It  is  perhaps 
to  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  competitive  work,  with 
which  Leonardo  was  to  be  surpassed.  It  belonged  to 
the  period  when  Leonardo's  cartoon  of  St.  Anne 
with  the  Virgin  and  Child  caused  a  sensation  by  the 
concentration  of  the  figures  in  a  new  style.  Michel- 
angelo puts  Joseph  in  the  place  of  St.  Anne;  in  other 
respects  the  task  is  similar;  two  adults  and  a  child 
were  to  be  brought  into  as  close  a  juxtaposition  as 
possible,  without  confusion  and  without  a  cramped 
effect.  Certainly  Michelangelo  excelled  Leonardo  in 
wealth  of  axis,  but  at  what  a  cost!  The  outlines 
and  modelling  are  of  a  metallic  accuracy.  It  is  in 
fact  no  picture,  but  a  painted  relief.  The  strength 
of  the  Florentines  lay  at  all  times  in  plastic  present- 
ment; they  were  a  race  of  sculptors,  not  of  painters, 
but  here  the  national  talent  rises  to  a  height  which  dis- 
closes quite  new  ideas  as  to  the  province  of  "good 
drawing. "  Even  Leonardo  has  nothing  which  ad- 
mits of  comparison  with  the  Virgin's  outstretched 
arm.  All  is  astonishingly  life-like  and  significant, 
every  joint  and  every  muscle.  It  was  to  some  pur- 
pose that  the  arm  was  bared  up  to  the  shoulder. 

The  impression  made  by  this  painting  with  its 
sharply  defined  contours  and  bright  shadows  did  not 
die  away  in  Florence.  Again  and  again  in  this  land 
of  drawing  the  opposition  to  the  obscurantists  in 
painting  crops  up,  and  Bronzino  and  Vasari,  for  ex- 
ample, are,  in  this  respect,  the  direct  successors  of 


74        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Michelangelo,  although  neither  even  remotely  attained 

the  expressive 
strength  o  f  h  i  s 
modelling.  From 
the  Pieta  and 
the  seated  Ma- 
donna  of  Bruges, 
the  Madonna 
reliefs  and  the 
tondooi  the  Holy 
Family,  we  look 
round  with  eager 
anticipation  for 
those  works  cf 
Michelangelo's 
youth,  in  which 
he  must  have 
displayed  his 
personality  most 
distinctly,  i.  e., 
nude  male  fig- 
ures. He  had 
commenced 
with  a  gigantic 
nude  Hercules 
which  has  not 
come  down 
to  us;  then  he 

David,  by  Michelangelo.  executed  in 

Rome  at  the 

same  time  as  the  Pieta  a  drunken  Bacchus  (the 
figure   in  the  Bargello),  and  soon  afterwards  the 


Michelangelo 


75 


work  which  outshines  all  in  fame,  the  Florentine 
David, 1 

In  the  Bacchus  and  the  David  is  to  be  recognised 
the  concluding  expression  of  Florentine  Naturalism 
in  the  sense  of  the  fifteenth  century.  It  was  a 
thought  quite  in  the  spirit  of  Donatello  to  represent 

1  The  Giovannino  of  the  Berlin  Museum,  which  is  there  ascribed 
to  Michelangelo  and  is  assigned  a  date  about  1495,  i.  e.  earlier 
than  the  Bacchus,  cannot  be  passed  over  here  entirely  in  silence, 
but  I  do  not  wish  to  repeat  what  I  have  already  said  elsewhere 
about  this  figure,  which  I  cannot  associate  with  Michelangelo 
nor  indeed  with  the  Quattrocento  at  all.  (Cf.  Wolffiin,  Die 
Jugendwerke  des  Michelangelo,  1891.)  The  excessively  artificial 
motif  and  the  general  smoothness  of  the  treatment  point  to  an 
advanced  period  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  treatment  of  the 
joints  and  drawing  of  the  muscles  are  derived  from  the  school  of 
Michelangelo,  but  not  that  of  his  youth:  the  motive  with  the 
freely  overstretched  arm  would  have  been  hardly  possible  even 
to  the  master  himself  before  1520,  and  the  soft  modelling,  which 
does  not  admit  of  the  indication  of  a  rib  or  the  fold  of  skin  in  the 
armpits,  would  find  no  analogy  among  the  most  effeminate  of  the 
Quattrocentists.  But  who  then  was  the  author  of  this  puzzling 
figure?  It  must  have  been  a  man  who  perished  young  it  has 
been  said,  otherwise  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  us  to 
know  nothing  more  of  him.  I  believe  that  he  must  be 
looked  for  in  the  person  of  the  Neapolitian  Girolamo  Santa- 
croce  (born  c.  1502,  died  1537),  whose  life  is  to  be  found  in 
Vasari.  (Cf.  de  Domenici,  Vite  dei  Pittori,  Scultori,  ed  Archi- 
tetti  Napolitani,  ii.,  1843.)  He  died  early  and  was  spoiled  still 
earlier,  sinking  in  the  waters  of  Mannerism.  His  coming  manner- 
ism is  unmistakable  even  in  the  Giovannino.  He  was  called 
the  second  Michelangelo,  and  the  greatest  hopes  were  entertained 
of  him.  A  work,  closely  akin  to  the  Giovannino,  is  the  splendid 
Altar  of  the  Pezzo  family  (1524)  in  Montoliveto  at  Naples,  by 
which  the  remarkable  ability  of  the  precocious  artist  may  be 
thoroughly  judged.    It  stands  near  a  similar  design  of  Giovanni 


76        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  drunken  stagger  suggested  in  the  Bacchus. 
Michelangelo  seizes  the  moment  when  his  toper,  no 
longer  quite  secure  on  his  feet,  blinks  at  the  full  cup 
which  he  raises  aloft,  and  is  obliged  to  look  to  a  small 
companion  for  support.  He  chose  for  his  model  a 
plump  young  fellow  and  completed  the  body  with 
intense  pleasure  in  the  individual  form  and  the 
effeminately  tender  structure.  He  never  again  ex- 
perienced this  pleasure.  Both  motive  and  treat- 
ment are  here  pronouncedly  Quattrocentistic.  This 
Bacchus  is  not  an  amusing  figure;  it  will  move  no  one 
to  laughter;  but  still  there  lurks  a  trace  of  youthful 
humour  in  it,  so  far  as  Michelangelo  ever  could  be 
young. 

The  David  is  still  more  striking  from  the  harshness 
of  the  figure.  A  David  ought  to  be  the  likeness  of  a 
handsome  and  youthful  victor.  Donatello  thus  por- 
trayed him  as  a  stalwart  boy;  thus  too,  in  a  different 
taste,  Verrocchio  represented  him  as  a  slim  angular 
youth.  What  does  Michelangelo  put  forth  as  his 
ideal  of  youthful  beauty?  A  gigantic  hobbledehoy, 
no  longer  a  boy  and  not  yet  a  man,  at  the  age  when 
the  body  stretches,  when  the  size  of  the  limbs  does 
not  appear  to  match  the  enormous  hands  and  feet. 
Michelangelo's  sense  of  realism  must  have  been  com- 
pletely satisfied  for  once.  He  shrank  from  no  con- 
da  Nola's,  who  is  usually  called  the  representative  of  Neapolitan 
plastic  art  in  the  Cinquecento,  but  is  much  less  important.  How 
little  the  relation  of  these  works  in  Naples  is  understood  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  the  scanty  and  inappropriate  mention 
made  of  them  by  Jacob  Burckhardt  has  stood  unaltered  from  the 
first  to  the  last  edition  of  the  Cicerone. 


Michelangelo 


77 


sequences,  he  even  ventures  to  enlarge  the  uncouth 
model  into  the 
colossal.  Then 
we  have  the  un- 
pleasant  atti- 
tude, hard  and 
angular,  and  the 
hideous  triangle 
between  the  legs. 
Not  a  single  con- 
cession has  been 
made  to  the  line 
of  beauty.  The 
figure  shows  a 
reproduction  of 
nature,  which  on 
this  scale  ap- 
proaches the 
marvellous  . 
It  is  astonishing 
in  every  detail, 
and  causes  re- 
newed surprise 
from  the  elastic- 
ity of  the  body 
as  a  whole,  but, 
frankly  speak- 
ing, it  is  abso- 
lutely ugly. 1 

1  For  an  explanation  of  the  motive,  cf.  Symonds,  Life  of 
Michelangelo  Buonarroti,  i.,  99.  According  to  him  David  is  hold- 
ing in  his  right  hand  the  wooden  handle  of  a  sling,  the  bag  of 


Apollo,  by  Michelangelo. 


78        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


In  this  connection  it  is  noteworthy  that  the  David 
has  become  the  most  popular  piece  of  sculpture  in 
Florence.  There  exists  in  the  Florentines  together 
with  the  specifically  Tuscan  grace — which  is  something 
distinct  from  the  Roman  dignity — a  feeling  for  ex- 
pressive ugliness,  which  did  not  die  out  with  the 
Quattrocento.  When  some  time  ago  the  David  was 
removed  from  its  public  position  near  the  Palazzo 
Vecchio  into  the  shelter  of  a  closed  Museum,  it  was 
found  necessary  to  let  the  people  have  a  view  of  their 
"  Giant,  "  if  only  in  a  bronze  cast.  It  was  then  indeed 
that  the  authorities  decided  on  an  unfortunate  manner 
of  exhibiting  it,  which  is  illustrative  of  the  modern 
want  of  taste.  The  bronze  figure  has  been  erected  in 
the  centre  of  a  large  open  terrace,  where  the  most 
monstrous  aspects  have  to  be  endured  before  any 
sight  of  the  man  can  be  obtained.  The  question  of 
position  was  discussed  in  its  day,  immediately  after 
the  completion  of  the  figure,  by  an  assembly  of  artists, 
and  the  minutes  of  the  meeting  are  still  extant ;  every 
one  then  held  that  the  work  should  be  placed  in  some 
recess,  either  in  an  arcade  of  the  Loggia  dei  Lanzi  or 
in  front  of  the  walls  of  the  Palace  of  the  Signoria. 
The  figure  requires  this,  for  it  is  flat  in  workmanship, 
and  is  not  intended  to  be  looked  at  from  all  sides. 
The  main  result  of  its  present  central  position  is  that 
its  ugliness  has  been  intensified. 

What  indeed  was  Michelangelo's  own  later  opinion 
of  his  David?    Apart  from  the  fact  that  such  a  careful 


which  (Symonds  says,  "centre,")  lies  with  the  stone  in  the  left 
hand. 


Michelangelo 


79 


study  from  the  model  became  absolutely  contrary  to 
his  ideas,  he  would  also  have  felt  the  motive  to  be  too 
barren.  We  may  perceive  his  matured  idea  of  the 
excellence  of  a  statue,  if  we  examine  the  so-called 
Apollo  of  the  Bargello,  which  was  finished  twenty- 
five  years  after  the  David.  It  is  a  youth  about  to 
draw  an  arrow  from  the  quiver.  Simple  in  its  detail, 
the  figure  is  infinitely  rich  in  action.  It  shows  no 
special  expenditure  of  force,  no  prominent  gestures. 
The  body  as  a  bulk  is  closely  compacted.  There  is, 
however,  such  an  impression  of  depth,  such  animation 
and  movement  in  the  back  planes  that  the  David 
appears  poor  in  comparison,  a  mere  panel.  The 
same  holds  good  of  the  Bacchus.  The  flat  expansion 
of  the  surface,  the  projection  of  the  limbs,  the  per- 
foration of  the  marble  block,  are  merely  Michel- 
angelo's youthful  mannerisms.  He  afterwards  looked 
to  compactness  and  restraint  for  effect.  He  must 
certainly  have  soon  perceived  the  value  of  such  treat- 
ment, for  it  is  conspicuous  in  the  figure  of  St.  Matthew 
the  Evangelist  (Florence,  courtyard  of  the  Accademia), 
which  was  designed  immediately  after  the  David. 1 

Nude  forms  and  movement — these  were  the  ob- 
jective of  Michelangelo's  art.  He  had  commenced 
with  them  when  as  a  mere  boy  he  chiselled  the 
Battle  of  the  Centaurs.  On  reaching  man's  estate  he 
repeated  his  task  and  performed  it  so  excellently  that 
a  whole  generation  Gf  artists  modelled  themselves 
upon  it.    The  cartoon  of  the  Bathers  is  certainly  the 

1  The  St.  Matthew  belongs  to  a  series  of  the  Twelve  Apostles 
which  was  intended  for  the  Cathedral  at  Florence,  but  not  even 
this  first  figure  was  ever  completed. 


8o        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


most  important  monument  of  the  early  Florentine 
period,  the  most  comprehensive  revelation  of  the  new 
method  of  studying  the  human  body.  The  few 
samples  of  the  lost  cartoon  which  the  burin  of  Marc 

Antonio1  has 
preserved  for  us 
are  sufficient  to 
give  some  idea 
of  the  scope  of 
the  "great  draw- 
ing" (gran  di- 
segno). 

It  is  reasona- 
ble to  suppose 
that  Michel- 
angelo had  a 
share  in  the 
choice  of  the 
subject.  A  bat- 
tle  scene  in 
which  swords 
had  been  drawn 
and  armour 
donned  had  evi- 
dently been  proposed  as  a  pendant  to  Leonardo's 
fresco  in  the  Council  Chamber.  The  artist,  how- 
ever, was  permitted  to  depict  the  moment  when  a 
company  of  bathing  soldiers  were  called  out  of  the 
river  by  an  alarm.  This  incident  had  occurred  in 
the    Pisan    wars.   Nothing  however    speaks  more 


Fragment  from  the  Cartoon  of  the 
Bathing  Soldiers,  by  Michelangelo. 


1  Bartsch,  472,  487,  488.    Also  Ag.  Veneziano,  B.  423. 


Michelangelo 


81 


clearly  for  the  high  tone  of  the  general  artistic  feeling 
in  Florence  than  the  fact  that  such  a  scene  was  ad- 
mitted as  the  subject  of  a  monumental  fresco. 

The  clambering  up  the  steep  bank,  the  kneeling  and 
reaching  down  to  the  water,  the  erect  figures  donning 
armour,  and  seated  forms  hastily  drawing  on  their 
garments,  the  shouting  and  running,  gave  oppor- 
tunities for  the  most  varied  movement ;  and  the  artist 
could  represent  nude  forms  to  his  heart's  content 
without  violating  historical  accuracy.  Later  his- 
torical painters  would  have  gladly  accepted  the  idea 
of  the  nude  figures,  but  would  have  condemned  the 
subject  as  too  insignificant  and  too  anecdotic. 

The  anatomists  among  the  Florentine  artists  had 
always  taken  as  subjects  fights  between  nude  com- 
batants. We  know  of  two  engravings  of  this  kind 
by  Antonio  Pollaiuolo,  and  we  are  told  that  Verroc- 
chio  made  a  sketch  of  nude  warriors,  which  was  in- 
tended to  be  reproduced  on  the  facade  of  some  house. 
Michelangelo's  work  should  be  compared  with  such 
productions.  It  would  then  be  seen  that  he  has  not 
only  invented,  so  to  speak,  all  movement  afresh,  but 
that  the  human  figure  first  becomes  coherent  in  his 
hands. 

The  older  scenes  might  exhibit  excited  com- 
batants, but  the  figures  seem  as  if  they  were  fixed 
between  invisible  barriers.  Michelangelo  first  ex- 
hibits the  utmost  power  of  movement  of  which  the 
human  form  is  capable.  There  is  more  resemblance 
between  all  the  earlier  figures  than  between  any  two 
figures  of  Michelangelo.  He  seems  to  have  first  dis- 
covered  the   third   dimension   and  foreshortening, 

6 


82        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


although  most  earnest  attempts  had  already  been 
made  in  that  direction. 

The  reason  of  this  liberal  employment  of  movement 
can  be  traced  to  his  intimate  knowledge  of  anatomy. 
He  was  not  the  first  to  prosecute  anatomical  studies, 
but  he  was  the  first  to  realise  the  organic  connection  of 
the  human  body.  He  knew  on  what  the  impression  of 
movement  depended,  and  brought  out  the  expressive 
forms,  giving  eloquence  to  every  joint. 

2. — The  Paintings  on  the  Ceiling  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel 

The  spectator  may  justly  complain  that  the 
Sistine  ceiling  is  a  torture  to  him.  He  is  forced  to 
study  a  series  of  episodes  with  his  head  bent  back. 
The  whole  place  seems  alive  with  figures  which  claim 
to  be  seen.  He  is  drawn  this  way  and  that,  and 
finally  has  no  option  left  but  to  capitulate  to  re- 
dundance and  abandon  the  exhausting  sight. 

It  was  Michelangelo's  own  choice.  The  original 
design  was  far  simpler.  The  Twelve  Apostles  were  to 
have  been  in  the  spandrils,  and  the  flat  surface  in  the 
middle  would  have  been  filled  with  a  mere  geometri- 
cal ornamentation.  A  drawing  of  Michelangelo's, 
in  London,1  shows  us  how  the  whole  would  have 
looked.  Some  competent  critics  are  of  opinion  that 
it  is  a  pity  he  did  not  adhere  to  this  project,  since  it 
would  have  been  "more  organic."  In  any  case 
such  a  ceiling  would  have  been  easier  to  examine 

1  Published  in  the  Jahrbuch  der  Preussischen  Kunstsanwilungen, 
1892  (Wolfflin). 


Michelangelo 


83 


than  the  present  one.  The  Apostles  ranged  along  the 
sides  would  have  been  comfortably  seen,  and  the 
ornamental  patterns  of  the  flat  middle  surface  would 
have  given  the  spectator  no  trouble.  Michelangelo 
refused  for  a  long  time  to  undertake  the  commission 
at  all.  But  it  was  his  own  desire  that  the  ceiling 
should  be  painted  on  this  colossal  scale.  It  was  he 
who  represented  to  the  Pope  that  the  figures  of  the 
Apostles  alone  would  make  but  a  meagre  decoration. 
In  the  end  he  was  given  a  free  hand  to  paint  whatever 
he  wished.  If  the  figures  on  the  ceiling  did  not  so 
clearly  show  the  triumphant  joy  of  a  creator,  we 
might  say  that  the  painter  vented  his  ill  humour  and 
took  his  revenge  for  the  uncongenial  commission. 
The  Lord  of  the  Vatican  should  have  his  ceiling,  but 
he  should  be  forced  to  stretch  his  neck  to  look  at  it! 

In  the  Sistine  Chapel  Michelangelo  first  enunci- 
ated the  axiom  which  became  significant  for  the  whole 
century,  that  no  beauty  is  comparable  to  that  of  the 
human  figure.  The  principle  of  the  decoration  of 
flat  surfaces  by  botanical  designs  is  abandoned,  and 
where  we  might  expect  the  tendrils  of  foliage  we  have 
nothing  but  human  forms.  There  is  not  an  atom  of 
ornamental  filling  on  which  the  eye  can  rest.  Michel- 
angelo certainly  employed  gradations  and  treated 
certain  classes  of  figures  as  subordinate.  In  their 
colour,  too,  he  made  distinctions,  giving  them  the 
tints  of  stone  or  of  bronze,  but  this  is  no  equivalent, 
and  however  one  may  regard  the  matter  it  is  certain 
that  the  complete  covering  of  the  flat  surface  with 
human  figures  implies  a  sort  of  ruthlessness  which 
furnishes  subject  for  reflection. 


84        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


On  the  other  hand,  the  Sistine  ceiling  remains  a 
marvel,  which  can  hardly  be  matched  in  Italy.  This 
decoration  is  as  the  thunderous  revelation  of  a  new- 
force  in  its  contrast  to  the  timid  pictures,  which  the 
masters  of  the  previous  generation  had  painted  on  the 
walls  beneath.  The  spectator  should  always  begin 
by  studying  these  Quattrocentist  frescoes,  and  should 
not  raise  his  eyes  upwards  until  he  has  familiarised 
himself  somewhat  with  them.  Then  and  then  only 
will  the  mighty  waves  of  life  on  the  vaulted  ceiling 
exercise  their  full  power  on  him,  and  he  will  feel  the 
sublime  harmony  which  links  and  joins  the  huge 
masses  above  him.  In  any  case,  on  entering  the 
chapel  for  the  first  time  the  visitor  will  do  well  to 
ignore,  i.  e.  turn  his  back  on,  the  Last  Judgment 
painted  on  the  wall  above  the  altar.  By  this  work 
of  his  old  age  Michelangelo  greatly  injured  the  im- 
pression produced  by  the  ceiling.  The  colossal 
picture  has  destroyed  the  proportions  of  everything 
round,  and  has  set  up  a  standard  of  size  which  dwarfs 
the  ceiling. 

If  we  attempt  to  explain  to  ourselves  the  causes 
which  produce  the  effect  of  this  ceiling  painting  we 
shall  meet  with  a  series  of  ideas  even  in  the  arrange- 
ment which  Michelangelo  was  the  first  to  conceive. 
In  the  first  place,  he  treated  the  entire  surface  of  the 
vaulted  roof  as  a  whole.  Any  other  artist  would 
have  separated  the  spandrils  (as  for  example  Raphael 
did  in  the  Villa  Farnesina).  Michelangelo  did  not 
wish  to  break  up  the  space.  He  devised  a  compre- 
hensive structural  system,  and  the  thrones  of  the 
prophets  which  rise  within  the  spandrils  are  so  in- 


Michelangelo 


85 


corporated  with  the  central  framework  that  they 
cannot  be  detached  from  the  whole. 

The  distribution  lays  little  stress  on  the  existing 
formation  of  the  ceiling.  It  was  far  from  the  artist's 
intention  to  accept  and  explain  the  given  conditions  of 
structure  and  space.  He  certainly  carried  the  main 
cornice  over  the  triangles  above  the  lunettes  with 
much  precision,  but  as  the  thrones  of  the  prophets  in 
the  spandrils  disregard  the  triangular  shape  of  these 
parts,  so  also  is  the  rhythm  that  informs  the  entire 
system  quite  independent  of  the  real  structure.  The 
contraction  and  the  expansion  of  the  intervals  in  the 
central  axis,  and  the  alternation  of  large  and  small 
spaces  between  the  transverse  arches,  in  combination 
with  the  striking  groups  in  the  spandrils,  appearing 
at  intervals  on  the  less  accentuated  parts,  make  up  so 
splendid  a  composition  that  Michelangelo  in  this  alone 
surpasses  all  earlier  achievements.  He  helps  the 
effect  by  the  darker  colouring  of  the  neighbouring 
divisions — the  ground  of  the  medallions  is  violet,  the 
triangular  segments  near  the  thrones  are  green — by 
which  the  lighter  main  motifs  are  shown  off,  and  the 
shifting  of  the  accent  from  the  centre  to  the  sides,  and 
then  back  again  to  the  centre,  becomes  more  impressive. 

Combined  with  this,  we  get  a  new  standard  of  size, 
and  a  new  gradation  in  the  dimensions  of  the  figures. 
The  seated  Prophets  and  Sibyls  are  of*  colossal  pro- 
portions. Next  to  them  come  small  and  still  smaller 
figures.  We  do  not  notice  at  once  how  far  the  scale 
of  size  diminishes;  we  only  note  the  wealth  of  forms 
and  accept  it  as  inexhaustible. 

A  further  factor  in  the  composition  is  the  distinction 


86        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


between  figures  which  were  meant  to  make  a  plastic 
effect,  and  historical  subjects  which  appear  merely  as 
pictures.  The  Prophets  and  Sibyls  and  all  their 
accompaniments  exist  as  material  objects,  and  have  a 
reality  quite  distinct  from  that  of  the  figures  in  the 
historical  subjects.  Occasionally  the  figures  (Slaves) 
seated  on  the  framework  invade  the  surface  of  the 
picture.  This  distinction  is  connected  with  a  contrast 
in  direction.  The  figures  in  the  spandrils  are  at  right 
angles  to  the  pictures.  They  cannot  be  seen  together, 
and  yet  they  cannot  be  entirely  separated.  A  part  of 
another  group  is  always  included  in  the  view,  and 
thus  the  imagination  is  kept  continually  on  the  alert. 

It  is  marvellous  that  a  collection  of  so  many  striking 
figures  could  ever  have  been  combined  so  as  to  present 
a  unity  of  effect.  This  would  have  been  impossible 
but  for  the  extreme  simplicity  of  the  strongly  marked 
architectonic  framework.  Festoons,  cornice,  and 
thrones  are  of  plain  white,  and  this  is  the  first  great 
example  of  monochrome.  The  many-coloured  dainty 
patterns  of  the  Quattrocento  would  in  fact  have  been 
meaningless  here.  The  repetition  of  the  white  tint 
and  the  simple  forms  is  admirably  adapted  to  bring 
an  element  of  repose  into  the  prevailing  tumult. 

THE  SUBJECT  PICTURES 

Michelangelo  claims  from  the  first  the  right  to  tell 
his  stories  by  means  of  nude  figures.  The  Sacrifice 
of  Noah,  and  the  Drunkenness  of  Noah  are  composi- 
tions mainly  of  nudities.  The  buildings,  costumes, 
furniture,  all  the  magnificent  details  which  Benozzo 


Michelangelo 


87 


Gozzoli  presents  to  us  in  his  Old  Testament  pictures, 
are  absent,  or  are  indicated  as  slightly  as  possible. 
There  is  no  attempt  to  introduce  landscape.  Not 
a  blade  of  grass,  if  not  absolutely  necessary.  Here 
and  there  in  a  corner  a  roughly  drawn  fernlike  vege- 
tation appears.  This  symbolised  the  creation  of  the 
vegetable  world.  A  tree  signifies  the  Garden  of  Eden. 
All  means  of  expression  are  combined  in  these  pictures. 
The  sweep  of  the  lines  and  the  spacing  are  made  to  add 
to  the  expressiveness,  and  the  story  is  told  with  a 
concentrated  pregnancy  without  parallel.  This  does 
not  apply  so  much  to  the  earlier  pictures  as  to  the 
more  advanced  works.  We  shall  note  the  process  of 
development. 

Of  the  first  three  pictures  the  Drunkenness  of  Noah 
takes  the  foremost  place  for  concentration  of  com- 
position. The  Sacrifice  of  Noah,  notwithstanding  a 
clever  motive,  of  which  later  artists  made  full  use, 
stands  on  a  lower  plane.  The  Flood,  which  from  its 
subject  might  be  compared  with  the  Bathing  Soldiers, 
and  is  crowded  with  large  figures,  appears  as  a  whole 
somewhat  fragmentary.  The  idea  that  the  people 
behind  the  mountain  are  advancing  towards  the 
spectator  is  a  remarkable  device  for  the  suggestion  of 
space.  We  do  not  see  how  many  there  are,  and  im- 
agine a  vast  multitude.  It  would  have  been  well  if 
many  painters,  who  have  attempted  to  represent  the 
Crossing  of  the  Red  Sea  or  similar  scenes  of  crowding 
masses,  had  been  able  to  achieve  such  results.  The 
Sistine  Chapel  itself  shows  in  its  frescoes  an  example 
of  the  older  and  poorer  style. 

As  soon  as  Michelangelo  obtained  more  space  his 


88        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


powers  grew.  In  the  picture  of  the  Fall  and  the  Ex- 
pulsion he  spreads  his  wings,  now  fully  grown,  and 
in  the  succeeding  pictures  soars  upward  to  heights 
which  no  other  painter  has  ever  reached. 

The  Fall  is  familiar  to  us  in  earlier  art  as  a  group  of 
two  standing  figures,  hardly  turned  towards  each 
other,  and  only  connected  by  the  incident  of  the 
proffered  apple.  The  tree  forms  the  centre  of  the 
picture.  Michelangelo  strikes  out  a  new  conception 
of  the  scene.  Eve,  reclining  with  all  the  indolent  ease 
of  a  Roman,  her  back  to  the  tree,  turns  for  a  moment 
towards  the  serpent,  and  receives  the  apple  from  him 
with  apparent  indifference.  Adam,  who  is  standing, 
stretches  his  hand  over  the  woman  into  the  branches. 
His  movement  is  not  very  intelligible  and  the  figure  is 
rather  indistinct.  But  we  see  from  the  Eve,  that  the 
story  is  treated  by  an  artist,  who  not  only  has  new 
ideas  of  form,  but  has  been  able  to  interpret  the 
spiritual  essence  of  the  scene:  the  indolence  of  the 
woman  engenders  sinful  thoughts. 

The  vegetation  of  the  Garden  of  Eden  is  indicated 
by  a  few  leaves  only.  Michelangelo  did  not  wish  to 
characterise  the  spot  materially.  Yet  by  the  sweep 
of  the  lines  of  the  ground  and  the  expanse  of  atmos- 
phere behind  he  produced  an  expression  of  richness 
and  vividness,  which  is  strongly  contrasted  with  the 
bare  horizontal  lines  of  the  neighbouring  scene,  in 
which  the  misery  of  the  Expulsion  from  the  Garden  is 
depicted.  The  figures  of  the  unhappy  sinners  are 
thrust  forward  to  the  farthest  edge  of  the  picture,  and 
an  empty  yawning  space  is  produced,  as  sublimely 
grandiose  as  a  pause  of  Beethoven's.    The  woman 


Michelangelo 


89 


with  bent  back  and  sunken  head  hurries  on,  loudly 
lamenting;  Adam  walks  away  with  more  dignity  and 
composure,  trying  however  to  avert  the  menacing 
sword  of  the  angel — a  significant  gesture  which  Jacopo 
della  Quercia  had  already  created. 

The  Creation  of  Eve.  God  Almighty  appears  for 
the  first  time  in  an  act  of  creation,  which  takes  place 
at  His  word.  All  the  details  of  earlier  painters,  the 
grasping  of  the  woman  by  the  forearm,  the  more  or 
less  violent  parting  of  body  from  body,  are  omitted. 
The  Creator  does  not  touch  the  woman ;  without  any 
exercise  of  force,  but  with  a  quiet  gesture,  he  utters 
the  command  "Arise!"  Eve  obeys,  in  a  way  that 
shows  how  dependent  she  is  on  the  movement  of  her 
Creator,  and  there  is  infinite  beauty  in  the  manner  in 
which  the  act  of  rising  becomes  the  gesture  of  adora- 
tion. Michelangelo  has  shown  here  his  conception 
of  sensuous  physical  beauty.  It  is  of  Roman  blood. 
Adam  lies  sleeping  by  a  rock,  an  inert  corpse-like 
form,  with  the  left  shoulder  prominent.  A  stump 
of  wood  in  the  ground,  on  which  his  hand  partly  rests, 
produces  a  further  effect  of  dislocation  in  the  joints. 
The  line  of  the  hill  covers  and  enfolds  the  sleeper.  A 
short  bough  corresponds  in  direction  with  Eve.  The 
whole  is  sharply  concentrated,  and  there  is  so  little 
margin  to  the  picture  that  the  Almighty  could  not 
have  held  Himself  upright.  The  action  of  creation  is 
repeated  four  times4  but  ever  with  new  and  enhanced 
powers  of  movement.  First,  the  Creation  of  Man. 
God  does  not  stand  before  the  recumbent  Adam,  but 
hovers  above  him,  with  a  choir  of  angels,  all  enclosed 
in  the  swelling  folds  of  His  mantle.    The  creation  is 


90        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


performed  by  contact.  The  Almighty  touches  the 
outstretched  hand  of  the  man  with  the  tip  of  His 
finger.  Adam  lying  on  the  hill-side  is  one  of  the  most 
famous  figures  conceived  by  Michelangelo.  He  is  a 
combination  of  latent  power  and  absolute  helplessness. 
The  man  lies  there  in  such  an  attitude  that  we  are 
sure  he  cannot  rise  of  himself.  The  drooping  fingers 
of  the  outstretched  hand  are  eloquent;  all  he  can  do 
is  to  turn  his  head  towards  God.  And  yet  what 
gigantic  action  lies  dormant  in  that  motionless  form, 
in  the  upraised  leg,  in  the  turn  of  the  hips!  How 
powerful  the  contrast  between  the  torso  which  we 
see  confronting  us,  and  the  profile  of  the  lower 
limbs ! 

God  upon  the  Waters.  An  unsurpassable  representa- 
tion of  the  all-pervading  benediction  of  the  Al- 
mighty. The  Creator  appears  in  the  air  and  stretches 
out  His  beneficent  hands  over  the  face  of  the  waters. 
The  right  arm  is  sharply  foreshortened.  The  picture 
is  very  abruptly  terminated  by  the  frame.  Next, 
the  sun  and  the  moon.  The  motive  force  grows 
stronger.  We  recall  Goethe's  words:  "A  mighty 
crash  heralds  the  coming  of  the  sun."  God  the 
Father,  with  thunder  in  His  wake,  stretches  out  His 
arms,  while  He  abruptly  turns  and  throws  back  the 
upper  part  of  His  body.  A  momentary  check  to  His 
flight,  and  sun  and  moon  are  already  created.  Both 
the  arms  of  the  Creator  are  in  motion  simultaneously. 
The  right  is  the  more  strongly  emphasised,  not  merely 
because  the  eye  follows  it,  but  because  it  is  more 
boldly  foreshortened.  Movement  always  produces  a 
more  vigorous  effect  when  foreshortened.    The  figures 


Michelangelo 


9i 


are  still  larger  than  before.  There  is  not  an  inch  of 
superfluous  space. 

We  here  notice  the  extraordinary  licence  that 
Michelangelo  took  when  he  represented  God  Almighty 
twice  in  the  same  picture.  His  back  only  is  seen, 
hurrying  into  the  depth  of  the  background,  as  if  shot 
frcm  a  cannon.  He  might  be  taken  at  first  for  the  de- 
parting demon  of  darkness,  but  the  creation  of  herbs 
and  plants  is  intended  by  this.  Michelangelo  thought 
that  a  mere  hasty  gesture  was  sufficient  for  this  crea- 
tive act.  The  countenance  of  the  Creator  is  already 
turned  towards  new  purposes.  There  is  a  trace  of 
primitive  art  in  the  double  appearance  of  the  same 
figure  in  the  picture,  but  the  spectator  can  convince 
himself  by  covering  up  the  one  side  of  the  composition 
how  greatly  the  impression  of  movement  is  enhanced 
by  the  repetition  of  the  flying  figure. 

In  the  last  picture,  where  Light  and  Darkness  are 
separated,  and  God  Almighty  is  borne  along  on  sweep- 
ing clouds,  we  can  no  longer  follow  the  artist  quite 
devoutly.  Yet  this  fresco  is  calculated  above  all  the 
others  to  bring  before  our  eyes  the  marvellous  tech- 
nique of  Michelangelo.  It  is  clearly  apparent  how  at 
the  last  moment,  that  is,  during  the  actual  painting,  he 
abandoned  the  hastily  drawn  outlines  of  the  pre- 
liminary sketch,  and  tried  something  different.  This, 
it  must  be  noted,  was  done  with  colossal  figures  and 
by  an  artist  who,  lying  on  his  back,  was  unable  to 
study  the  whole  effect. 

It  has  been  said  of  Michelangelo  that  he  was  in- 
terested in  motives  of  form  as  such,  and  would  not 
accept  them  as  expressive  of  some  given  subject. 


92        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


This  may  be  true  of  many  of  his  single  figures,  but 
where  he  had  a  story  to  tell  he  always  respected  its 
meaning.  The  Sistine  ceiling  is  a  proof  of  this,  as  well 
as  the  frescoes  painted  by  him  at  a  very  advanced  age 
in  the  Pauline  Chapel.  At  the  corners  of  the  ceiling 
there  are  four  soffits,  on  which,  among  other  figures, 
is  Judith ,  giving  the  head  of  Holof ernes  to  a  slave. 
This  subject  had  often  been  treated  and  always  as 
a  more  or  less  indifferent  process  of  giving  and  re- 
ceiving. No  special  emotion  was  usually  shown  by 
Judith  or  by  the  servant.  Michelangelo  makes  his 
Judith  look  round  towards  the  bed  on  which  Holo- 
fernes  is  lying,  at  the  very  moment  when  the  attend- 
ant bends  down  to  receive  the  head  on  the  uplifted 
charger.  It  is  as  if  the  corpse  had  moved.  The  scene 
thus  gains  inmeasurably  in  interest.  If  we  knew 
nothing  of  Michelangelo  this  sample  of  his  powers 
would  be  enough  to  mark  its  author  out  as  a  dramatic 
painter  of  the  first  rank. 

3. — The  Prophets  and  Sibyls 

A  commission  for  standing  figures  of  the  twelve 
Apostles  for  the  Cathedral  at  Florence  had  been  given 
to  Michelangelo,  and  twelve  seated  Apostles  had  also 
figured  in  the  first  scheme  of  the  Sistine  Chapel. 
Prophets  and  Sibyls  were  afterwards  substituted  for 
these.  The  unfinished  St.  Matthew  shows  how  Michel- 
angelo proposed  to  heighten  the  expression  of  outward 
and  inward  emotion  in  the  case  of  an  Apostle !  What 
might  not  be  expected  of  him  when  he  created  pro- 
phetic types!    He  paid  no  attention  to  conventional 


Michelangelo 


93 


attributes,  and  soon  abandoned  even  the  traditional 
scrolls.  He  went  far  beyond  a  representation,  in 
which  the  names  were  the  first  consideration,  and  the 
figures  were  merely  intended  to  proclaim  with  violent 
gesticulation  that  they  had  said  something  in  life. 
He  depicts  moments  of  spiritual  life,  inspiration  itself, 
rapt  soliloquy  and  deep  absorbing  reflection,  tranquil 
study  and  eager  search  through  the  pages  of  a  book. 
In  the  midst  of  such  scenes  a  commonplace  motive  is 
introduced,  such  as  the  fetching  of  a  book  from  the 
shelf,  the  whole  interest  being  concentrated  on  the 
physical  movement. 

The  series  contains  youthful  and  aged  figures. 
The  expression  of  prophetic  contemplation  has  been 
reserved  by  Michelangelo  for  the  youthful  figures. 
He  does  not  conceive  this  as  a  look  of  longing  ecstasy 
in  the  spirit  of  Perugino,  or  as  an  absorption,  a  passive 
receptivity,  in  the  manner  of  Guido  Reni,  in  whose  pic- 
tures it  is  often  hard  to  distinguish  between  a  Danae 
and  a  Sibyl.  In  Michelangelo  it  is  an  active  con- 
dition, as  of  the  soul  going  out  to  meet  an  esoteric 
influence.  The  types  have  little  of  the  individual. 
The  costumes  are  completely  ideal.  What  character- 
istic then  marks  out  the  Delphic  Sibyl  from  all  figures 
of  the  Quattrocento?  What  gives  such  grandeur  to 
her  action  and  invests  the  figure  with  such  fateful 
inevitability?  The  motive  is  the  sudden  listening 
attention  of  the  prophetess,  as  she  turns  her  head 
and  raises  her  arm  with  the  scroll  for  an  instant. 
The  head  is  shown  in  the  simplest  aspect,  absolutely 
full  face.  This  attitude  is  a  triumph  over  difficult 
conditions.    The  upper  part  of  the  body  is  turned 


94        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


aside  and  bent  forward,  and  the  outstretched  arm 
forms  another  opposition  which  the  head  had  to  over- 
come by  a  turn.    Its  force  is  due  to  the  very  peculi- 


The  Erythraean  Sibyl,  by  Michelangelo. 


arity,  that  the  full  face  is  presented,  notwithstanding 
difficulties,  and  that  the  vertical  is  elaborated  from 
contradictory  elements.  It  is  evident  that  the  sharp 
encounter  with  the  horizontal  line  of  the  arm  lends 
energy  to  the  direction  of  the  head.    The  treatment 


Michelangelo  95 


of  light  is  also  important ;  the  shadow  bisects  the  face 
and  accentuates  the  middle  line,  while  the  vertical 
line  is  again  emphasised  by  the  pointed  head-cloth. 

The  eyes  of  the  prophetess  follow  the  turn  of  the 
head  to  the  right  with  a  peculiar  movement.  It  is 
the  powerful,  widely  opened  eyes  that  fix  the  spectator 
from  afar.  But  the  effect  would  be  less  strong  with- 
out the  accompanying  lines,  which  take  up  and  con- 
tinue the  movement  of  the  eyes  and  head.  The  hair 
streams  in  the  same  direction,  as  well  as  the  great 
enfolding  mantle,  which  surrounds  the  whole  figure 
like  a  sail. 

In  this  motive  of  drapery  there  is  a  contrast  be- 
tween the  right  and  left  of  the  silhouette  which  is 
frequent  in  Michelangelo's  works.  On  the  one  side 
the  line  is  smooth  and  unbroken,  on  the  other  jagged 
and  agitated.  The  same  principle  of  contrast  is 
repeated  in  the  various  limbs.  While  the  one  arm  is 
raised  aloft  with  vigorous  action,  the  other  seems  a 
mere  dead  weight.  The  fifteenth  century  thought  it 
necessary  to  give  equal  animation  to  every  detail,  the 
sixteenth  century  obtained  more  powerful  results  by 
laying  the  accent  on  isolated  points.  The  Ery- 
thraean Sibyl  is  seated  with  one  leg  thrown  across  the 
other.  In  parts  the  figure  is  completely  in  profile. 
The  one  arm  is  extended,  the  other  hangs  down  and 
follows  the  compact  outline.  The  drapery  here  is 
peculiarly  monumental.  An  interesting  comparison 
may  be  made  by  glancing  back  at  the  figure  of  Rhet- 
oric on  Pollaiuolo's  tomb  of  Sixtus,  where  a  very  similar 
motive  has  produced  a  very  dissimilar  effect  under 
the  fanciful  treatment  of  a  Quattrocentist. 


96        Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Michelangelo  represents  the  aged  Sibyls  crouching 
with  bowed  backs.  The  Persian  Sibyl  holds  a  book 
before  her  dim  eyes.  The  Cumaean  Sibyl  grasps  with 
both  hands  a  book  which  lies  at  her  side,  thus  giving 
a  contrast  of  action  in  the  lower  limbs  and  the  body. 

The  action  of  the  Libyan  Sibyl  is  most  complex0 
She  fetches  down  a  book  from  the  wall  behind  the 
seat.  She  does  not  rise  for  this  operation,  but  reaches 
for  the  book  with  both  arms,  and  looks  in  another 
direction.    Much  ado  about  nothing. 

The  line  of  development  in  the  male  figures  passes 
from  Isaiah  and  Joel  (not  from  Zacharias)  to  the  more 
grandly  conceived  figure  of  Daniel  writing,  and  past 
the  strikingly  simple  Jeremiah  to  Jonah,  who  with  a 
Titanic  gesture  bursts  through  all  the  tectonic  bounds 
enframing  him. 

We  cannot  do  justice  to  these  figures  if  we  do  not 
carefully  analyse  the  motives,  and  consider  in  every 
case  the  posture  of  the  body  as  a  whole,  and  the 
movement  of  the  limbs  in  detail.  Our  eyes  are  so 
unaccustomed  to  grasp  the  relations  of  bodies  to  space 
as  thus  rendered  that  we  shall  find  it  difficult  to  re- 
call to  memory  one  of  the  motives,  even  directly  after 
looking  at  it.  Any  description  seems  pedantic  and 
also  gives  the  erroneous  impression  that  the  limbs  are 
arranged  on  a  definite  system,  whereas  the  idiosyn- 
crasy of  the  conception  consists  in  the  blending  of 
formal  intention  with  the  overpowering  expression  of  a 
psychological  moment.  This  is  not  equally  the  case 
everywhere.  The  Libyan  Sibyl,  one  of  the  last 
figures  on  the  ceiling,  shows  a  splendid  wealth  of  line 
and  curve,  but  the  conception  of  the  figure  is  super- 


Michelangelo 


97 


ficial.  In  the  same  group  of  later  figures  is  Jeremiah, 
sunk  in  profound  reverie,  and  this  form,  though  sim- 
pler than  any  other,  touches  our  hearts  the  most. 

4. — The  Slaves 

Nude  youthful  figures  are  seated  above  the  pillars 
of  the  thrones  of  the  Prophets.  Facing  each  other, 
in  pairs,  each  couple  has  one  of  the  bronze  medallions 
between  them,  and  seems  about  to  garland  it  with 
festoons  of  fruit.  These  are  the  so-called  Slaves. 
Drawn  on  a  smaller  scale  than  the  Prophets,  their 
part  in  the  tectonic  scheme  is  to  furnish  a  freely 
treated  finial  to  the  pillars.  As  crowning  figures  they 
display  the  greatest  liberty  of  gesture. 

This  gives  us  twenty  more  seated  figures!  They 
present  new  possibilities,  for  they  do  not  sit  facing 
the  spectator,  but  in  profile  and  on  very  low  seats. 
They  are  also — and  this  is  the  most  important 
point — nude  figures.  Michelangelo  wished  for  once 
to  treat  the  nude  to  his  heart's  content.  Once 
more  he  entered  the  domain  which  he  had  trodden 
in  his  cartoon  of  the  Bathing  Soldiers.  Here,  if 
anywhere  in  the  decoration  of  the  ceiling,  he  threw 
himself  body  and  soul  into  the  task.  Boys  with  gar- 
lands of  fruit  were  no  unusual  subject.  Michelangelo 
demanded  more  athletic  figures.  We  must  not  in- 
quire too  precisely  what  each  is  doing.  The  motive 
was  chosen,  because  it  justified  an  infinite  variety  of 
gestures  incidental  to  pulling,  lifting,  or  carrying.  We 
cannot  bind  the  artist  down  to  a  direct  explanation 
of  each  gesture. 


Michelangelo 


99 


There  is  no  peculiar  tension  of  muscles,  but  this 
series  of  nude  figures  seem  to  have  the  faculty  of  in- 
fusing currents  of  vitality  into  the  spectator;  they 
constitute  "a  life-communicating  art,"  to  use  the 
words  of  B.   Berenson.     The  proportions  are  so 
massive,  and  the  contrasts  afforded  by  the  dispo- 
sition of  the  limbs  are  so  powerful  that  we  feel  our- 
selves face  to  face  with  a  new  phenomenon.  What 
parallels  can  the  whole  fifteenth  century  produce 
to  these  imposing  figures?    The  divergence  from  the 
normal  type  in  the  structure  of  the  bodies  is  un- 
important in  comparison  with .  the  conditions  under 
which  Michelangelo  presents  the  limbs.    He  dis- 
covered entirely  hew  effects  of  proportion.    He  brings 
the  one  arm  and  the  shins  closely  together  as  three 
parallel  lines,  he  then  makes  the  down-stretched  arm 
cut  the  line  of  the  thigh  almost  at  right  angles,  and 
keeps  the  figure,  from  the  foot  to  the  crown  of  the  head, 
in  an  almost  vertical  line.    These  are  not  mathe- 
matical variations  of  some  problem  which  he  set  him- 
self.   The  unusual  gesture  has  a  convincing  effect. 
He  is  master  of  the  figures  because  of  his  anatomical 
knowledge.    This  is  the  secret  of  his  drawing.  Any- 
one who  has  seen  the  right  arm  of  the  Delphic  Sibyl 
knows  that  there  is  much  in  store.    He  treats  a  simple 
problem  like  the  support  of  an  arm  in  such  a  way  as  to 
convey  an  entirely  new  impression.    The  truth  of  this 
may  be  seen  by  a  comparison  of  the  nude  youth  in 
Signorelli's  fresco  of  Moses  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  with 
Michelangelo's  Slaves  above  the  figure  of  the  prophet 
Joel.    And  these  Slaves  are  among  the  earlier  and 
tamer  figures.    Later,  he  added  the  effects  of  fore- 


Michelangelo 


IOI 


shortening,  more  and  more  boldly,  until  he  arrived  at 
the  hasty  scorzi  of  the  last  figures.  The  wealth  of 
movement  gradually  increases.  At  first  the  coupled 
figures  have 
some  sort  of 
symmetrical 
correspondence 
but  at  the  last 
they  form  al- 
most complete 
contrasts.  Mi- 
chelangelo, far 
from  wearying 
at  length  of  the 
ten  times  re- 
peated motive, 
found  that  ideas 
occurred  to  him 
in  ever  fresh 
profusion. 

To  judge  of 
this  gradual  de- 
velopment,  w  e 

may  compare  an      Figure  of  a  Slave,  by  Michelangelo, 
early  group,  the 

slaves  over  Joel,  with  a  late  group,  that  over  Jeremiah. 
In  the  one,  a  simple  seated  posture  in  profile,  no 
great  difference  in  the  arrangement  of  the  limbs, 
and  an  approximately  symmetrical  correspondence 
between  the  figures.  In  the  other  we  have  two 
figures,  which  have  no  points  of  resemblance  either 
in  structure,  gesture,  or  illumination,  but  which 


102       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


mutually  enhance  their  effect  by  contrast.  The 
indolent  figure  of  this  pair  may  well  be  acclaimed 
the  finest  of  them  all,  and  not  merely  so  because  he 
has  the  noblest  features.  The  figure  is  in  repose, 
but  he  presents  grandiose  contrasts  of  direction,  and 
the  peculiar  movement,  with  the  forward  inclination 
of  the  head,  leaves  a  marvellous  impression.  The 
most  daring  foreshortening  is  combined  with  absolute 
clarity  and  breadth  of  appearance.  Even  taking  into 
account  the  important  effects  due  to  the  light  here, 
it  is  marvellous  that  the  figure  can  look  so  motionless. 
This  effect  would  not  be  made  but  for  the  clear  relief- 
like breadth  of  the  painting.  As  a  mass  the  figure 
is  very  compact,  and  can  even  be  inscribed  in  a  regular 
geometrical  figure.  The  centre  of  gravity  is  high  up, 
and  this  produces  an  extraordinary  lightness  in  the 
whole,  in  spite  of  the  herculean  limbs.  Modern  art 
has  certainly  never  surpassed  the  negligent  ease  of 
this  type  of  seated  figure.  Strangely  enough,  we 
involuntarily  recall  a  figure  from  the  distant  foreign 
world  of  Greek  Art,  the  figure  of  the  so-called  Theseus 
of  the  Parthenon. 

The  remaining  decorative  figures  on  the  ceiling 
cannot  be  discussed  here.  The  small  surfaces  with 
the  lightly  sketched  figures  look  like  a  sketch  book  of 
Michelangelo's  and  are  full  of  interesting  motives, 
showing  the  dawning  possibility  of  figures  such  as 
those  on  the  Tombs  of  the  Medici.  Far  more  impor- 
tant are  the  fillings  of  the  pointed  arches,  recumbent 
groups  covering  broad  triangular  spaces,  such  as  later 
art  required  in  abundance.  Then  in  the  lunettes  we 
have  those  genre  scenes,  doubly  marvellous  in  Michel- 


Michelangelo 


103 


angelo's  work,  the  most  astonishing  conceptions  and 
improvisations.  The  artist  himself  seems  to  have  felt 
the  necessity  for  letting  the  excitement  die  down  here, 
after  the  violent  physical  and  psychological  stress  of 
the  upper  compartments.  These  "  Ancestors  of 
Christ"  depict  a  peaceful  uniform  existence,  the 
ordinary  life  of  man. 

A  few  words  in  conclusion  as  to  the  course  of  the 
work.  The  ceiling  is  not  absolutely  homogeneous. 
There  are  seams  in  it,  so  to  speak.  Every  one  will 
notice  that  the  Flood  and  its  two  companion  pictures 
the  Drunkenness  and  the  Sacrifice  of  Noah  are  painted 
with  much  smaller  figures  than  the  other  episodes. 
The  work  was  begun  with  these  three,  and  there  is 
good  reason  to  assume  that  Michelangelo  found  the 
size  of  the  figures  inadequate  from  below.  But  it  is  a 
pity  that  the  scale  had  to  be  altered,  for  it  was  clearly 
intended  that  the  size  should  gradually  diminish  in 
the  various  classes  of  figures.  There  is  at  first  a 
uniform  gradation  from  the  Prophets  to  the  nude 
Slaves,  and  thence  to  the  figures  in  the  episodes,  and 
this  produces  a  pleasantly  calm  effect.  Later  the 
inside  figures  tower  far  over  the  heads  of  the  Slaves, 
and  the  scale  becomes  uncertain.  If  the  original 
proportions  had  been  adhered  to,  the  smaller  surfaces 
would  have  been  as  sucessful  as  the  larger,  for  the  scale 
was  uniform.  Later  a  change,  inevitable  but  not 
profitable,  ensued.  The  figure  of  the  Almighty  in  the 
Creation  of  Adam  is  gigantic,  and  in  the  Creation  of  Eve 
we  find  the  same  figure  considerably  smaller. 1 

1  It  is  probable  that  with  the  new  scale  of  proportion  a  change  in 


io4      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  second  "seam"  appears  in  the  middle.  A 
fresh  increase  in  size  is  suddenly  noticeable.  This 
time  the  change  is  in  every  part,  and  the  Prophets  and 
Slaves  are  so  large  that  the  architectonic  system  could 
no  longer  be  uniformly  carried  out.  The  engravers 
have  indeed  disguised  the  irregularities,  but  photo- 
graphs afford  a  convincing  proof  of  it.  We  know  that 
there  was  a  long  interruption  in  the  middle  of  the  work, 
and  Michelangelo,  when  he  resumed  the  painting,  was 
bent  on  an  increase  of  scale.  At  the  same  time  the 
colour-scheme  was  altered.  The  early  historical  scenes 
are  bright  in  tone.  The  skies  are  blue,  the  fields  green, 
and  there  are  only  brilliant  tints  and  light  shadows. 
Later  everything  is  subdued,  the  sky  is  whitish  grey, 
the  draperies  dull.  The  colours  lose  body  and  become 
watery.  The  gold  disappears.  The  shadows  become 
more  intense. 

From  the  commencement  Michelangelo  worked  at 
the  ceiling  in  its  full  breadth,  and  therefore  progressed 
simultaneously  with  the  " histories"  and  the  figures  of 
the  Prophets.  He  continued  similarly  after  the  great 
interruption,  and  it  was  only  quite  at  the  last  that  he 
rapidly  painted  in  the  lower  figures  in  the  pointed 
arches  and  lunettes  continuously. 


the  general  scheme  was  made  and  a  new  series  of  scenes  adopted, 
for  it  cannot  be  imagined  that  the  scenes  of  the  Creation  with 
their  few  figures  could  have  filled  up  the  space  if  drawn  on 
the  scale  of  the  Flood.  Some  such  change  in  the  general  scheme 
must  be  assumed,  because  the  Sacrifice  of  Noah  is  admittedly 
out  of  its  place,  so  much  so  that  early  critics  (Condivi)  described 
it  as  the  Sacrifice  of  Cain  and  Abel,  to  preserve  the  chrono- 
logical continuity.    This  explanation,  however,  is  not  tenable. 


Michelangelo 


105 


5. — The  Tomb  of  Julius 

The  ceiling  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  is  a  monument  of 
that  pure  style  of  the  High  Renaissance  which  did  not 
yet  know,  or  did  not  yet  acknowledge,  any  discordant 
note.  The  tomb  of  Pope  Julius,  if  it  had  been  carried 
out  according  to  the  original  intention,  would  have 
been  its  plastic  counterpart.  As  is  well  known,  it  was 
executed  much  later  on  a  very  reduced  scale,  and  in  a 
different  style.  Of  the  original  figures  carved  by  the 
master  only  the  Moses  found  a  place  on  the  monu- 
ment. The  so-called  Dying  Slaves  went  their  sepa- 
rate way,  and  eventually  found  a  resting  place  in  the 
Louvre.  We  have  not  only  to  lament  that  a  monu- 
ment planned  on  a  grand  scale  was  reduced  to  in- 
significance, but  that  its  suppression  left  us  absolutely 
without  a  monument  of  Michelangelo's  "pure" 
style.  The  work  nearest  to  it,  but  separated  by  a 
wide  interval,  the  San  Lorenzo  Chapel,  is  in  a  very 
different  manner. 

It  will  not  be  out  of  place  here  to  make  some  general 
remarks  on  sepulchral  monuments.  The  Florentines 
had  developed  a  type  of  gorgeous  mural  tombs,  which 
may  be  best  exemplified  by  the  tomb  of  the  Cardinal 
of  Portugal  by  Antonio  Rossellino  in  San  Miniato. 
The  characteristic  feature  is  the  flat  niche,  in  which 
the  sarcophagus  is  placed  with  the  figure  of  the  de- 
ceased above  it  on  a  couch.  In  a  roundel  above  it 
is  the  Madonna  who  looks  down  smilingly  on  the 
corpse,  while  laughing  angels  uphold  the  garlanded 
medallion  as  they  fly.  Two  little  nude  boys,  seated 
on  the  bier,  try  to  show  tearful  faces.    Above  them, 


io6      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


on  the  top  of  the  pilasters,  are  two  full-grown  angels, 
grave  and  majestic,  offering  the  crown  and  palms. 
The  niche  is  enframed  by  a  draped  curtain  in  stone. 


Tomb  of  the  Cardinal  of  Portugal,  by  Antonio  Rossellino. 


In  order  to  picture  to  ourselves  the  original  effect 
of  the  monument  an  important  factor  has  to  be 
imagined,  i.  e.  colour.  The  violet  marble  of  the 
background,  the  green  surfaces  between  the  pilasters, 
and  the  mosaic  pattern  of  the  floor  under  the  sar- 


Michelangelo 


107 


cophagus  are  still  visible,  since  stone  does  not  lose  its 
colour,  but  all  the  painted  colours  have  disappeared, 
destroyed  by  an  age  hostile  to  colour.  Traces  still 
remain,  however,  enough  to  allow  us  to  imagine  the 
original  effect.  Every  detail  was  coloured.  The 
robes  of  the  cardinal,  the  cushion,  and  the  brocade  of 
the  pall  in  which  the  pattern  is  also  suggested  in  low 
relief.  The  monument  glittered  with  gold  and  purple. 
The  lid  of  the  sarcophagus  had  a  brightly  coloured 
scale  pattern,  and  the  ornamental  pilasters  as  well  as 
the  mouldings  of  the  frame  were  gilded.  The  rosettes 
of  the  soffit  were  gold  on  a  dark  ground.  The  festoons 
and  the  angels  were  also  ornamented  with  gold.  The 
triviality  of  a  stone  curtain  is  only  endurable  if 
carried  out  with  colour.  The  pattern  of  the  brocaded 
surface  and  the  checkers  of  the  lining  are  still  quite 
discernible. 

This  colouring  of  statues  and  monuments  ceased 
suddenly  with  the  sixteenth  century.  The  grandiose 
tombs  of  Andrea  Sansovino  in  Santa  Maria  del 
Popolo  show  no  trace  of  it.  Colour  is  replaced  by 
effects  of  light  and  shade.  The  figures  stand  out 
white  from  the  dark  niches. 

A  second  element  appears  in  the  sixteenth  century ; 
the  architectonic  sense  makes  itself  felt.  The  early 
Renaissance  was  still  fanciful  in  its  buildings,  and 
according  to  our  ideas  there  is  something  adventitious 
in  its  combination  of  figures  and  architecture.  Rossel- 
lino's  tomb  is  itself  a  striking  example  of  the  inorganic 
style  of  the  fifteenth  century.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  kneeling  angels.  Their  tectonic  coherence  is  nil, 
or  at  any  rate  of  the  very  loosest.    The  manner  in 


io8       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


which  they  stand  on  the  top  of  the  pilasters  with  one 
foot,  with  the  other  in  space,  offends  a  later  taste. 
Still  more  offensive  is  the  intersection  of  the  en- 
framing moulding  by  the  out-thrust  foot,  and  the 
absence  of  any  incorporation  of  the  figure  with  the 
surface  of  the  wall.  The  topmost  angels  also  float 
in  space  without  any  form  or  setting.  The  series  of 
pilasters  inserted  in  the  niche  have  no  real  relation 
to  the  whole  conception.  The  crudeness  of  the  archi- 
tectonic feeling  generally  is  shown  by  the  treatment  of 
the  soffit,  which  is  lined  from  top  to  bottom  with  over- 
large  coffered  compartments,  no  distinction  being 
made  between  the  arch  and  the  impost.  The  same 
strictures  apply  to  the  motive  of  the  marble  curtain. 

In  Sansovino's  work  a  definitely  organised  archi- 
tectural system  is  the  governing  idea.  Every  figure 
has  its  appropriate  place,  and  the  parts  form  a  homo- 
geneous whole.  There  is  a  large  niche  with  a  flat 
background,  smaller  vaulted  side-niches,  and  all 
three  are  blended  into  a  harmonious  arrangement  of 
semi-columns  with  a  complete  entablature  running 
right  across. 

Michelangelo's  Tomb  of  Pope  Julius  would  have 
been  a  similar  combination  of  architecture  and  sculp- 
ture. Not  a  mural  tomb,  but  a  free  structure  of 
several  storeys — an  elaborate  marble  erection,  in 
which  sculpture  and  architecture  were  to  combine, 
as  in  the  Santa  Casa  at  Loretto.  In  wealth  of  scuplture 
it  would  have  surpassed  all  existing  monuments,  and 
the  master  who  created  the  Sistine  ceiling  would  have 
been  the  man  to  have  breathed  a  mighty  rhythm  into 
the  whole.    The  figure  of  the  deceased  was  usually 


Michelangelo  109 


represented  in  the  fifteenth  century  as  recumbent, 
as  if  sleeping,  the  legs  stretched  out  straight,  the  hands 


Tomb  of  a  Prelate,  by  Andrea  Sansovino. 
(The  upper  part  omitted.) 


simply  folded  one  on  the  other.  Sansovino  retained 
the  idea  of  sleep,  but  the  traditional  way  of  lying  was 
too  simple  and  conventional  for  him.  His  figure  lies 
on  its  side ;  the  legs  are  crossed,  one  arm  is  thrust  under 
the  head,  and  the  hand  hangs  away  from  the  pillow. 


no      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Later  the  figures  become  more  agitated,  as  if  evil 
dreams  tormented  the  sleeper.  Lastly  the  idea  of 
sleep  is  abandoned  and  the  figure  is  represented  as 
reading  or  praying.  Michelangelo's  conception  was 
quite  original.  He  planned  a  group  showing  the 
Pope  laid  to  rest  by  two  angels.  The  figure  is  still 
partly  raised  so  that  it  is  quite  visible ;  presently  it  was 
to  be  entombed  like  a  Dead  Christ.1 

This  would  have  been  a  mere  incident  in  comparison 
with  the  wealth  of  figures  which  had  been  planned. 
We  have,  as  has  been  said,  only  three  of  them,  the 
two  Slaves  from  the  lower  storey  of  the  monument 
and  the  Moses  from  the  upper  storey. 

These  Slaves  are  fettered,  less  by  their  actual  bonds, 
than  by  their  structural  purpose.  They  were  to  be 
placed  in  front  of  pillars  and  they  share  the  restraint 
of  the  architectonic  form.  They  are  subject  to  a 
force  which  prohibits  any  movement  of  their  own. 
The  tense  posture  of  the  body,  giving  the  impression 
that  the  limbs  could  not  move  from  a  definite  spot, 
which  is  noticeable  in  the  unfinished  St.  Matthew  at 
Florence,  is  repeated  here  with  a  more  pronounced 
reference  to  the  function  of  the  figure.  The  representa- 
tion of  the  gradual  awakening  of  movement  in  the 
body  is  unsurpassable.  The  sleeper  stretches  himself, 
his  head  still  languidly  inclined;  his  hand  passes 
mechanically  over  his  breast,  and  the  thighs  rub  one 
against  the  other.  There  is  the  deep  drawing  of  a 
breath  before  complete  waking  consciousness.  The 

1  Cf.  Jahrb.  d.  Preuss.  Kunstsatnmlungen,  1884  (Schmarsow) , 
in  which  the  chief  document,  the  drawing  in  the  possession  of 
Herr  von  Beckerath  of  Berlin,  is  published. 


Michelangelo 


in 


block  of  marble  that  remains  unhewn  so  enhances  the 
impression  of  self-liberation  that  it  seems  essential 
to  the  composition. 

The  second  slave  is  not  presented  full-face,  but  in 
profile. 

In  his  Moses  Michelangelo  again  represents  a  certain 
restraint  of  movement.  The  cause  of  this  is  to  be 
sought  here  in  the  volition  of  the  person  himself;  it 
symbolises  the  last  moment  of  self-control  before 
giving  way  to  impulse,  i.  e.  before  starting  up.  It 
is  interesting  to  compare  the  Moses  with  the  earlier 
series  of  colossal  seated  figures  sculptured  by  Dona- 
tello  and  his  contemporaries  for  the  cathedral  at 
Florence.  Donatello  even  then  tried  to  represent  the 
typical  seated  figure  as  instinct  with  life,  but  how 
different  is  Michelangelo's  conception  of  movement! 
The  relation  of  this  figure  to  the  Prophets  of  the 
Sistine  ceiling  is  at  once  apparent.  Michelangelo  re- 
quired an  asolutely  compact  mass  for  a  plastic  as 
opposed  to  a  pictorial  presentation.  This  constituted 
his  strength.  We  must  go  back  very  far  to  find  a 
similar  appreciation  of  coherent  bulk.  Quattrocentist 
sculpture  seems  very  fragile  even  where  it  aims  at 
powerful  effects.  The  Moses  displays  clear  traces  of 
Michelangelo's  early  style.  Later  he  would  hardly 
have  approved  of  the  multiplicity  of  the  folds  and 
the  deep  hollows.  In  this  statue  as  also,  e.  g.,  in  the 
Pietdj  he  aimed  at  obtaining  bright  reflections  by 
means  of  a  highly  polished  surface. 

The  figure  was  intended  to  stand  diagonally;  it  is  in 
semi-profile.  It  is  necessary  to  get  a  clear  sight  of 
the  leg  which  is  drawn  back,  since  the  action  of  the 


ii2      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


figure  depends  chiefly  on  this.  From  this  point  of 
view  the  main  directions,  the  angle  formed  by  the 
arm  with  the  leg,  and  the  jagged  outline  of  the  left 
side,  are  remarkably  distinct.  The  head,  which  is 
turned  round,  gradually  dominates  the  whole  with  its 
vertical  line.  The  side  turned  away  from  the  spec- 
tator is  carelessly  executed,  and  the  action  of  the  arm 
and  of  the  hand  which  pulls  at  the  beard  could  never 
have  produced  an  interesting  effect. 

The  figure  was  finally  placed  to  confront  the  spec- 
tator, and  it  is  difficult  to  realise  what  the  effect  would 
be  if  it  were  seen  obliquely.  The  colossus  was  thrust 
into  a  niche,  and  the  detached  shrine  projected  by  the 
master  became  a  mural  tomb  of  modest  proportions. 
Forty  years  after  its  inception  the  work  was  brought 
to  an  end  with  this  lamentable  compromise.  Mean- 
while the  artist's  style  had  undergone  a  complete 
modification.  The  statue  of  Moses  was  intentionally 
brought  into  surroundings  which  seem  too  cramped 
for  him.  He  was  put  into  a  frame  which  he  threatens 
to  burst.  The  necessary  resolution  of  this  dissonance 
lay  in  the  accessory  figures.  This  is  a  baroque  con- 
ception. 


IV 

RAPHAEL 
1483-1520 

Raphael  spent  his  youth  in  Umbria.  He  won 
special  distinction  in  the  school  of  Perugino,  and  so 
completely  assimilated  the  emotional  style  of  the 
master  that  in  Vasari's  judgment  it  is  impossible  to 
distinguish  between  the  pictures  of  the  teacher  and 
his  pupil.  Never  perhaps  did  a  pupil  of  genius  so 
entirely  absorb  the  manner  of  his  master  as  did  Ra- 
phael. The  angel  which  Leonardo  painted  in  Verroc- 
chio's  Baptism  of  Christ  at  once  strikes  the  spectator 
as  something  peculiar,  the  boyish  productions  of 
Michelangelo  resemble  nothing  else,  but  Raphael  in 
his  early  works  is  not  to  be  divorced  from  Perugino. 
Then  he  went  to  Florence.  Michelangelo  had  just 
completed  all  the  great  works  of  his  youth,  had  set  up 
his  David,  and  was  employed  on  his  Bathing  Soldiers. 
Leonardo  meantime  had  designed  the  cartoon  of  his 
battle-piece,  and  in  his  Mona  Lisa  was  achieving  un- 
precedented results.  He  was  already  in  the  prime  of 
life  and  had  won  a  brilliant  reputation;  Michelangelo 
was  on  the  threshold  of  manhood  with  an  assured 
future  before  him,  while  Raphael  had  barely  passed 
his  twentieth  yeal*.  What  prospect  of  success  could 
he  hope  for  when  pitted  against  these  giants? 
&  113 


ii4       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Perugino  was  highly  esteemed  on  the  Arno.  The 
youthful  Raphael  may  well  have  been  told  that  he 
might  always  find  a  public  for  his  master's  style.  He 
may  have  been  encouraged  to  hope  that  he  would 


The  Virgin  with  SS.  Sebastian  and  John  the  Baptist, 
by  Perugino. 


become  a  second  or  even  a  better  Perugino.  His 
pictures  did  not  seem  to  promise  any  more  strongly 
marked  individuality. 

Free  from  any  trace  of  Florentine  realism,  simple  in 
his  conception,  and  modest  in  his  treatment  of  the 
line  of  beauty,  Raphael  entered  the  lists  against  the 
great  masters  with  very  slight  prospects  of  success. 


Raphael  115 


But  he  brought  with  him  a  talent  peculiar  to  himself, 
a  capacity  for  grasping  fresh  notions,  and  changing 
preconceived  ideas.  He  gave  the  first  great  proof  of 
this  when  he  abandoned  the  tenets  of  the  Umbrian 
School  and  devoted  himself  to  Florentine  problems. 
Few  artists  would  have  been  able  to  do  so,  but  if  we 
survey  the  brief  career  of  Raphael  we  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  admit  that  no  one  else  has  ever  shown  similar 
development  in  so  limited  a  time.  The  Umbrian 
visionary  became  the  painter  of  great  dramatic  scenes ; 
the  youth  who  hardly  ventured  on  contact  with  the 
things  of  earth,  became  a  portrait-painter  who  had  a 
powerful  grasp  of  his  subject.  The  draughtsmanship 
of  Perugino's  style  changed  into  a  pictorial  manner, 
and  the  narrow  taste  for  beauty  in  repose  gave  place 
to  the  craving  for  bold  effects  of  moving  masses.  We 
note  the  first  indication  of  the  virile  Roman  master. 

Raphael  had  not  the  fine  nerves  and  the  delicacy 
of  Leonardo,  still  less  the  strength  of  Michelangelo. 
We  might  say  that  he  possessed  average  powers, 
abilities  that  all  could  understand  if  this  expression 
were  not  liable  to  be  misinterpreted  as  a  disparage- 
ment. That  happy  mean  of  temperament  is  a  thing 
so  rare  among  us  that  nowadays  it  would  be  far  easier 
for  most  of  us  to  understand  a  Michelangelo  than  the 
frank,  bright,  and  kindly  personality  of  a  Raphael. 
The  attractive  amiability  of  his  nature,  the  trait 
which  impressed  itself  most  deeply  on  all  his  associates 
still  radiates  unmistakably  from  his  pictures. 

We  cannot  discuss  the  art  of  Raphael  without  first 
dealing  with  Perugino.  Praise  of  Perugino  was  once 
considered  an  infallible  means  for  acquiring  a  repu- 


n6      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


tation  as  a  connoisseur  (Goldsmith's  Vicar  of  Wake- 
field). At  the  present  day  it  would  be  advisable  to 
adopt  the  opposite  course.  It  is  known  that  he  em- 
ployed assistants  to  repeat  his  sentimental  heads,  and 
that  the  copies  escape  detection  if  looked  at  from  a 
distance.  But  if  only  one  of  his  heads  were  ad- 
mittedly genuine,  we  should  still  be  impelled  to  ask 
what  artist  had  won  from  the  Quattrocento  that 
marvellously  intense  look,  so  full  of  soul.  Giovanni 
Santi  knew  why  he  coupled  Perugino  and  Leonardo  in 
his  rhyming  Chronicle,  as  "par  d'etade  e  par  d'amori. " 
Perugino  further  possesses  a  rhythm  of  line  he  owes  to 
himself  alone.  He  is  not  only  far  simpler  than  the 
Florentines,  but  he  has  an  appreciation  of  calm  and 
repose  which  forms  a  striking  contrast  to  the  restless 
nature  of  the  Tuscans  and  the  elaborate  daintiness 
of  the  late  Quattrocento  style.  We  must  compare 
two  such  pictures  as  Filippino's  Appearance  of  the 
Madonna  to  St.  Bernard  in  the  Badia  of  Florence,  and 
the  same  subject  treated  by  Perugino  in  the  Pina- 
cothek  at  Munich.  In  the  former  the  line  is  sprawl- 
ing, and  there  is  a  confused  medley  of  detail  in  the 
picture;  in  the  latter  there  is  absolute  repose,  quiet 
lines,  noble  architecture  with  a  wide  outlook  into  a 
distant  landscape,  a  range  of  hills  fading  away  deli- 
cately on  the  horizon,  an  absolutely  clear  sky,  an  all- 
pervading  silence,  so  intense  that  one  might  think  to 
hear  the  rustling  of  the  leaves  when  the  breath  of  even- 
ing stirs  the  slender  trees.  Perugino  felt  the  harmony 
of  landscape  and  architecture.  He  built  his  simple, 
spacious  halls,  not  as  fanciful  decorations  to  his 
pictures,  as  Ghirlandajo  sometimes  does,  but  as  an 


Raphael  117 


effective  resonance.  No  one  before  him  had  so  wed- 
ded figures  and  architecture.  (C/.  the  illustration  of 
the  Mddonna  of  1493  in  the  Uffizi.)  He  is  from  the 
first  a  master  of  the  art  of  construction.  Where  he 
has  to  deal  with  several  figures  together,  he  builds  up 
a  group  on  a  geometrical  plan.  The  composition  of 
his  Pietd  (1495)  in  the  Pitti  would  have  been  judged 
by  Leonardo  to  be  empty  and  tame,  but  in  Florence 
it  had  then  a  special  significance.  Perugino  with  his 
fundamental  doctrines  of  simplicity  and  observance 
of  law  was  an  important  factor  when  Classical  Art 
was  dawning,  and  we  realise  how  greatly  he  shortened 
the  road  which  Raphael  was  to  take. 

1. — The  Marriage  of  the  Virgin  and  the 

Entombment 

Raphael's  Marriage  of  the  Virgin  (in  the  Brera  at 
Milan)  bears  the  date  1504.  It  was  the  work  of  the 
artist  in  his  twenty-first  year.  The  pupil  of  Peru- 
gino here  shows  what  he  had  learned  from  his  master, 
and  we  can  easily  distinguish  the  original  and  the 
borrowed  features  in  the  picture,  because  Perugino 
has  painted  the  same  subject  (the  picture  is  at  Caen).1 
The  composition  is  practically  identical,  except  that 
Raphael  has  reversed  the  two  sides,  putting  the  men 
on  the  right  and  the  women  on  the  left.  The  other 
points  of  divergence  are  slight.  Yet  the  two  pictures 
are  separated  by  all  the  difference  between  a  painter 
who  works  on  traditional  lines  and  a  more  accom- 

1  Berenson  assigns  the  picture  to  Lo  Spagna,  painting  under 
the  influence  of  Raphael  {Gazette  des  Beaux-Arts,  L  896). 


n8       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


plished  pupil  of  fine  susceptibilities  who,  while  still 
restricted  in  style,  tries  to  put  fresh  life  into  every 
particle  of  the  accepted  motive. 

It  is  necessary  first  to  realise  this  motive.  The 
ceremony  of  the  marriage  differs  somewhat  in  detail 
from  the  usual  renderings.  There  is  no  exchange  of 
rings,  but  the  bridegroom  holds  out  to  the  bride  a 
ring,  in  which  she  places  her  finger.  The  Priest  holds 
the  wrists  of  both  and  joins  their  hands.  The  minute 
detail  of  the  procedure  presented  great  difficulties  to 
the  artist.  It  is  necessary  to  look  very  closely  into 
Perugino's  picture  to  discover  the  real  meaning  of 
the  act.  Raphael  has  here  worked  independently. 
He  places  Mary  and  Joseph  farther  apart  and  alters 
their  attitudes.  Joseph  has  already  made  his  gesture 
and  the  ring  has  been  brought  into  the  middle  of  the 
picture.  It  is  Mary's  turn  to  act,  and  the  attention 
of  the  spectator  is  directed  to  the  movement  of  her 
right  arm.  This  arm  forms  the  real  centre  of  action 
in  the  group,  and  the  reason  why  Raphael  altered  the 
position  of  the  figures  is  easily  understood.  He  want- 
ed to  display  the  important  limb  in  the  front  of  the 
picture  and  uncovered.  Nor  is  this  all :  the  direction 
of  the  movement  is  now  taken  up  by  the  Priest  who 
guides  Mary's  hand,  and  instead  of  standing  as  in 
Perugino's  painting,  a  stiff  central  line,  follows  the 
action  with  his  whole  person.  The  movement  of  his 
body  suggests  the  "  Put  it  on"  at  any  distance.  This 
shows  the  genius  of  the  born  painter,  whose  instinct 
at  once  fastens  upon  the  true  pictorial  elements  of  the 
legend.  The  idea  of  the  standing  figures  of  Mary 
and  Joseph  is  the  common  property  of  the  school, 


Raphael  .  119 


but  Raphael  endeavoured  to  individualise  and  differ- 
entiate while  retaining  the  types.    How  delicate  is 


The  Entombment,  by  Perugino. 


the  differentiation  of  the  way  in  which  the  two  hands 
are  grasped  by  the  Priest ! 

The  subordinate  figures  are  so  arranged  that  they 
do  not  distract  the  eye,  but  rather  serve  to  concen- 
trate the  effect.  There  is  an  almost  audacious  inter- 
ruption of  the  symmetry  by  the  figure  of  the  suitor 
breaking  his  rod  in  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  pic- 


120      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ture.  Perugino  also  has  this  figure,  but  brings  it 
farther  back. 

The  beautiful  little  temple  in  the  background  is 
placed  so  high  that  it  in  no  way  interferes  with  the 
lines  of  the  figures.  This  again  is  in  Perugino's 
purest  style.  He  adopted  the  same  arrangement  in 
the  great  fresco  of  Christ  Delivering  the  Keys  at  Rome. 
Figures  and  architecture  stand  apart  like  oil  and 
water.  His  figures  are  intended  to  stand  out  in  clear 
silhouette  against  a  symmetrically  paved  floor.  How 
different  is  the  story  of  the  Marriage  of  Mary  when 
told  by  a  Florentine!  Everything  is  plamorous. 
Gaily  coloured  fashionable  dresses  are  de  rigueur. 
The  public  stand  and  gape,  and  instead  of  the  quietly 
resigned  suitors  there  is  a  band  of  stalwart  youths  who 
pommel  the  bridegroom  with  their  fists.  There  seems 
to  be  a  general  free  fight,  and  the  wonder  is  how  Joseph 
can  remain  calm.  What  was  the  meaning  of  this? 
The  motive  occurs  in  the  fourteenth  century1  and 
has  a  juristic  significance:  the  blows  are  intended  to 
make  the  marriage  vow  impressive.  The  reader 
may  perhaps  recall  a  similar  scene  in  Immermann's 
Oberhof,  where,  however,  the  motive  is  rationalised 
thus:  the  future  husband  ought  to  know  how  it  feels 
to  be  beaten! 

THE  ENTOMBMENT 

Into  this  Florence  Raphael  came  to  create  a  second 
school.    He  was  hardly  recognisable  when,  three  or 

1  Cf.  Taddeo  Gaddi  (S.  Croce).  Also  Ghirlandajo  (S.  Maria 
Novella)  and  Franciabigio  (S.  Annunziata). 


Raphael  121 


four  years  after,  he  produced  the  Entombment  in  the 
Borghese  Gallery.    He  had  abandoned  all  his  charac- 


The  Entombment,  by  Raphael. 


teristics,  soft  lines,  clear  grouping,  and  gentle  sensi- 
bility. Florence  had  worked  a  revolution  in  him. 
Movement  and  the  nude  had  become  the  problems 
that  absorbed  him.  He  wished  to  present  lively  action, 
displays  of  mechanical  power,  strong  contrasts.  Mi- 
chelangelo and  Leonardo  had  made  a  profound  im- 


122       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


pression  on  him.  How  poor  his  Umbrian  style  must 
have  seemed  to  him  compared  with  their  achievement ! 

The  picture  of  the  Entombment  was  a  commission 
from  Perugid,  but  the  order  was  certainly  given  not 
for  this  subject  but  for  a  Pieta  such  as  Perugino  had 
painted  (his  picture  in  the  Palazzo  Pitti  is  well 
known x) .  Perugino  avoids  all  movement,  and  only  re- 
presents the  weeping  bystanders  round  the  dead  body, 
a  collection  of  mournful  faces  and  gracefully  drawn 
figures.  Raphael's  first  idea  was  a  Pieta,  Sketches 
for  this  subject  are  extant.  He  then  adopted  the  new 
idea  of  the  carrying  of  the  dead  body.  He  painted 
two  men  bearing  the  pitiful  burden  up  to  the  rock- 
tomb.  He  assigns  a  different  age  and  type  to  each, 
and  makes  the  motive  complex  by  drawing  one  of 
them  going  backwards,  and  therefore  obliged  to  grope 
with  his  heels  for  the  steps  he  has  to  mount. 

Amateurs  are  slow  to  grasp  the  merit  of  such  purely 
physical  motives,  and  would  prefer  as  much  psycho- 
logical expression  as  possible.  Everyone  will  however 
admit  that  under  any  circumstances  it  is  a  gain  to 
introduce  contrasts  into  the  picture,  that  repose 
is  more  impressive  side  by  side  with  movement, 
and  that  the  sympathy  of  the  mourners  is  em- 
phasised by  the  indifference  of  those  who  are  only 
concerned  with  their  mechanical  labour.  Perugino 
chills  our  emotion  by  the  uniform  expression  of  his 

1  It  may  be  mentioned  in  this  place  that  the  youthful  figure 
on  the  extreme  right  of  the  picture  corresponds  in  every  detail  to 
the  Aless.  Braccesi  of  the  Ufhzi,  which  was  formerly  ascribed  to 
Lorenzo  di  Credi. 


Raphael  123 


heads,  whereas  Raphael  strives  to  heighten  the  in- 
tensity of  the  effect  by  strong  contrasts. 

The  most  beautiful  feature  of  the  picture  is  the  body 
of  Christ,  with  the  shoulder  thrust  forward  and  the 
drooping  head.  The  motive  is  the  same  as  in  Michel- 
angelo's Pieta.  The  artist's  knowledge  of  anatomy  is 
still  superficial,  and  the  heads  show  no  strength  of  char- 
acterisation. The  articulations  of  the  limbs  are  but 
slightly  defined.  The  younger  of  the  two  bearers  is 
not  very  firm  on  his  legs,  and  the  indistinctness  of  his 
right  hand  is  distressing  to  the  eye.  The  inclination 
of  the  older  man's  head  is  the  same  as  that  of  Christ's, 
and  the  effect  of  this  is  disturbing.  The  preliminary 
studies  avoid  this  result.  Then  the  whole  composition 
is  confused.  The  disagreeable  medley  of  legs  has 
always  been  criticised,  and  we  may  further  ask,  what 
is  the  meaning  of  the  second  old  man?  Once  more  an 
originally  lucid  idea  seems  to  have  become  obscure. 
In  the  original  sketch  he  was  looking  down  on  the 
Magdalen  as  she  hurried  towards  him,  but  here  he 
gazes  incomprehensibly  into  the  air,  and  by  the  vague- 
ness of  his  action  only  accentuates  the  disagreeable 
impression  produced  by  the  cluster  of  the  four  heads. 
The  beautiful  motive  of  the  Magdalen  holding  the 
hand  of  Christ  as  she  follows  the  procession  may  have 
been  adopted  from  an  antique  model. 1  The  action  of 
her  right  arm  is  indistinct.  The  group  of  the  fainting 
Virgin  surpasses  as  a  motive  anything  of  Perugino's. 
The  kneeling  figure  in  the  foreground  was  certainly 

1  Relief  in  the  Capitoline  Museum  (Hector?).  Righetti, 
Campidoglio,  vol.  i.,  plate  171.  H.  Grimm  has  already  referred 
to  it  in  this  connection. 


124      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


suggested  by  Michelangelo's  Madonna  in  the  Holy 
Family,  It  is  strange  that  we  should  have  to  accept 
such  harsh  intersections  of  arms  from  the  refined 
Raphael.  This  group  as  a  whole  is  unpleasantly  com- 
pressed in  the  picture.  Raphael's  original  design 
was  more  justly  conceived.  He  brought  the  women 
into  the  moving  procession  of  the  chief  group,  but 
let  them  follow  at  a  short  distance.  The  picture  is 
incoherent  as  it  stands.  It  must  be  added  that  the 
square  shape  is  in  itself  injurious  to  its  effect.  To 
produce  the  idea  of  a  procession  the  field  of  action  must 
have  a  definite  direction.  Titian's  Entombment  owes 
much  to  the  mere  proportions  of  the  canvas.  What 
share  in  the  Borghese  Entombment  must  be  ascribed  to 
the  second  hand  which  finished  it  is  a  disputed  point. 
It  was  certainly  a  task  which  at  the  time  Raphael 
could  not  satisfactorily  accomplish.  He  had  attacked 
the  Florentine  problems  with  a  marvellous  capacity 
for  learning,  but  for  the  moment  he  lost  his  way  over 
the  work. 

2. — The  Florentine  Madonnas 

Intention  and  execution  are  more  equal  in  the 
Madonna  pictures  than  in  the  Entombment,  It  is 
as  a  painter  of  Madonnas  that  Raphael  has  achieved 
popularity,  and  it  may  indeed  seem  superfluous  to  test 
the  charm  of  these  pictures  by  the  coarse  methods  of 
formal  analysis.  They  have  been  familiar  to  us  all 
from  our  youth  up  through  reproductions  more  num- 
erous than  the  works  of  any  other  artist  in  the  world 
have  called  forth. 


Raphael  125 


The  traits  of  deep  maternal  love  and  of  childish  in- 
nocence, of  solemn  dignity,  and  of  a  strange  super- 
natural beauty  appeal  to  us  so  strongly  that  we  do 
not  ask  for  any 
further  artistic 
meaning.  And 
yet  a  glance  at 
Raphael's  draw- 
ings would  teach 
us  that  the  pro- 
blem for  the  art- 
ist did  not  lie 
where  the  public 
thought.  The 
task  was  not 
merely  the  crea- 
tion  of  some 
beautiful  head 
or  delicious 
childish  atti- 
tude, but  in- 
volved the  ar- 
rangement of 
the  group  as  a 
whole,  the  har- 


4a 


The  Madonna  del  Granduca,  by  Raphael. 


monising  of  the  directions  of  limbs  and  bodies  in 
various  attitudes.  No  one  need  be  debarred 
from  approaching  Raphael  on  the  emotional  side; 
but  a  large  proportion  of  his  artistic  intention  will 
only  be  revealed  to  the  spectator  when  he  dis- 
regards the  pleasurable  emotions  produced  by  the 
picture,  and  proceeds  to  consider  its  form. 


126      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


It  will  be  well  to  arrange  pictures  representing  the 
same  subject  according  to  a  scheme  of  progressive 
development.  In  this  connection  it  is  unimportant 
whether  the  Madonna  holds  a  book  or  an  apple, 
whether  she  is  seated  in  the  open  air  or  not.  The 
basis  of  classification  must  not  depend  on  material 
but  on  formal  distinctions.  The  important  questions 
artistically  are :  whether  the  Madonna  is  depicted  as  a 
half-length  or  full-length  figure,  whether  she  forms 
a  group  with  one  or  two  children,  or  whether  other 
adult  figures  are  added.  Let  us  begin  with  the 
simplest  motive,  the  half-length  Madonna,  and  con- 
sider first  the  Madonna  del  Granduca  in  the  Pitti 
Gallery.  An  absolute  simplicity  marks  the  vertical 
line  of  the  standing  figure  and  the  (as  yet)  somewhat 
timid  attitude  of  the  seated  Child.  The  vitality  of  the 
picture  is  due  to  the  slight  inclination  of  the  one  head. 
However  perfect  the  oval  of  the  face  and  however  mar- 
vellously conceived  the  expression,  the  effect  would 
not  have  been  attained  without  this  simple  system  of 
direction,  in  which  the  diagonal  line  of  the  head,  which 
is  inclined,  but  still  seen  full  face,  marks  the  only 
deviation.  The  atmosphere  of  Perugino  still  breathes 
from  this  tranquil  picture.  At  Florence  something 
more  was  demanded,  greater  freedom  and  more 
vigorous  movement.  The  rectangular  disposition  of 
the  seated  Child  is  discarded  in  the  Casa  Tempi  Ma- 
donna at  Munich,  and  is,  as  a  rule,  superseded  by 
a  half -recumbent  posture;  the  Child  has  turned 
round  and  throws  his  limbs  vigorously  about  {Orleans 
and  Bridgewater  Madonnas) ;  the  Mother  is  no  longer 
standing  but  seated,  and  as  she  bends  forward  and 


Raphael  127 


then  again  turns  aside,  the  picture  becomes  at  once 
rich  in  axes  of  direction.  From  the  Granduca  and  the 
Tempi  there  is  a  regular  progressive  development 
to  the  Sedia  (Pitti),  in  which  the  little  St.  John  first 


The  Madonna  della  Sedia,  by  Raphael. 


appears,  thus  giving  scope  for  the  utmost  wealth  of 
plastic  effect  by  the  play  of  limbs  and  depth  of  treat- 
ment; and  these  are  the  more  striking  owing  to  the 
compression  of  the  group,  which  is  adapted  to  a 
closely  fitting  frame. 

Quite  analogous  is  the  development  of  a  second 
theme,  that  of  the  full-length  Madonna  with  Jesus 
and  St.  John.    Raphael  first  timidly  constructed  the 


128      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


simple,  delicately-outlined  pyramid  of  the  Madonna 
del  Cardellino  (in  the  Uffizi) ,  where  the  children  stand 


The  Madonna  del  Cardellino,  by  Raphael. 


symmetrically  on  each  side  of  the  seated  Virgin. 
This  is  a  composition  on  the  lines  of  the  equilateral 
triangle.  The  lines  are  drawn  with  a  delicacy  of 
feeling  unknown  in  Florence,  and  the  proportions  of 
the  figures  are  balanced  with  all  the  accuracy  of  the 


Raphael  129 


goldsmith's  scales.  Why  does  the  Virgin's  robe  slip 
from  her  shoulder?  To  prepare  for  the  projection 
of  the  book  in  the  silhouette;  by  this  device  the  line 
glides  downwards  in  a  harmonious  rhythm.  Gradu- 
ally the  master  feels  the  need  of  more  movement. 
The  children  are  distinguished  more  clearly;  the  St. 
John  is  made  to  kneel  down  {Belle  Jardiniere  in  the 
Louvre)  or  both  children  are  placed  on  one  side  {Ma- 
donna in  the  Meadow  at  Vienna).  At  the  same  time 
the  Madonna  is  seated  farther  in  the  background,  so 
that  the  figures  may  be  more  closely  knit,  and  the 
contrasts  of  direction  more  sharply  expressed,  till  at 
last  a  picture  is  evolved  of  the  marvellously  com- 
pressed richness  seen  in  the  Casa  Alba  Madonna  (at 
St.  Petersburg),  which,  like  the  Madonna  della  Sedia, 
belongs  to  Raphael's  Roman  period. 1  In  this  we  note 
an  unmistakable  reminiscence  of  Leonardo's  Ma- 
donna  with  St.  Anne  (in  the  Louvre).2  A  still  richer 
theme  is  treated  in  the  Holy  Families  in  the  style  of 
the  Madonna  della  Casa  Canigiani  at  Munich,  in 
which  Mary,  Joseph,  and  the  mother  of  St.  John  are 
collected  round  the  children,  i.  e.  a  group  of  five 
figures  had  to  be  arranged.  Here  again  the  first 
solution  of  the  problem  was  a  simply  constructed 

1  The  Madonna  with  the  Diadem  (Louvre) ,  which  enjoys  a 
curious  popularity  (engraving  by  F.  Weber) ,  shows  how  little  of 
this  art  permeated  Raphael's  immediate  circle.  The  coarse 
motive  of  the  Madonna,  the  awkwardness  of  the  posture,  and  the 
movement  of  the  hand  preclude  all  idea  of  an  original  com- 
position.   (According  to  Dollmayr  the  picture  is  by  G.  F.  Penni.) 

2  Cf.  the  almost  identical  circular  composition  of  the  so-called 
Madonna  del  Lago  of  the  school  of  Leonardo.  The  engraving 
by  G.  Longhi  is  well  known. 

9 


130       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


pyramid.  The  two  kneeling  women  who  hold  the 
children  between  them  form  the  base,  and  the  stand- 
ing figure  of  Joseph  the  apex.  The  Canigiani  Ma- 
donna is  a  masterpiece  of  composition,  far  beyond 
the  powers  of  a  Perugino.     It  has  the  Umbrian 

transparency  and 
clearness,  and  is 
instinct  with  the 
Florentine  wealth 
of  movement. 
Raphael's  Roman 
development  was 
in  the  direction 
of  solid  effects 
and  strong  con- 
trasts. An  in- 
structive antithesis 
of  the  later  Roman 
period  might  be 
found  in  the  Ma- 
donna  del  divin 
Amore  (Naples),  which,  though  not  original  in  exe- 
cution, affords  a  thorough  illustration  of  the  new 
ideas.1  The  typical  changes  are,  that  the  former 
equilateral  triangle  has  developed  unequal  sides, 
that  the  apex  has  been  considerably  lowered,  and  that 
what  was  formerly  light  and  limpid  has  become 
ponderous  and  heavy.  The  two  women  now  sit 
together  on  one  side,  and  Joseph,  an  isolated  figure, 

1  Dollmayr  (Jahrbuch  der  Sammlungen  des  Allerhochsten 
Kaiserhauses,  1895)  assigns  the  picture  both  as  regards  execution 
and  design  to  G.  F.  Penni  (//  Fattore). 


The  Madonna  della  CasaAlba, 
by  Raphael. 


Raphael  131 


thrust  far  into  the  background,  balances  the  com- 
position on  the  other  side. 

In  the  Madonna  of  Francis  I  (Louvre),  a  picture 
with  many  figures,  the  construction  of  a  group  is 
definitely  abandoned,  and  in  its  place  we  have  a 
picturesque  representation  of  intricate  masses  which 
negatives  any  sort  of  comparison  with  the  earlier 
compositions. 1 

Finally,  the  Florentine  Raphael  gave  us  his  con- 
ception of  the  Madonna  enthroned,  and  surrounded 
by  Saints,  in  his  large  altar-piece,  the  Madonna  del 
Baldacchino.  The  simplicity  of  Perugino  is  here 
blended  with  motives  in  the  style  of  Fra  Bartolommeo, 
that  mighty  personality  who  of  all  the  Florentines 
approached  Raphael  the  most  closely.  The  plainness 
of  the  throne  is  quite  in  the  manner  of  Perugino.  The 
magnificent  firmly  modelled  figure  of  St.  Peter,  on 
the  other  hand,  is  clearly  due  to  the  influence  of  Fra 
Bartolommeo.  A  complete  estimate  of  the  picture 
would  have  to  take  into  account  not  only  these  two 
factors,  but  the  additions  made  much  later  in  Rome, 
i.  e.  the  angels  above  the  Madonna,  probably  all 
the  architecture  in  the  background,  and  certainly  the 
extensive  addition  to  the  height  of  the  picture.2 
Roman  taste  required  more  space.  If  Raphael  had 
been  given  a  completely  free  hand,  he  would  have 

1  Dollmayr  is  inclined  to  believe  that  Raphael  designed  at  least 
the  group  with  the  Virgin.  Penni  and  Giulio  Romano  may  have 
shared  the  execution. 

2  The  St.  Augustine  appears  to  have  been  added  by  an  inferior 
hand.  On  the  other  hand,  the  boy-angels  certainly  belonged  to 
the  original  picture.   (This  point  is  disputed,  e.  g.,  in  the  Cicerone.) 


132      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

brought  the  two  pairs  of  Saints  into  closer  groups, 
would  have  placed  the  Madonna  lower  down,  and 
would  have  given  a  more  compact  form  to  the 
combined  figures.  A  comparison  that  may  be  made 
on  the  spot,  in  the  Palazzo  Pitti,  will  clearly  show 
how  the  taste  of  a  decade  later  would  have  de- 
cided these  questions.  It  is  only  necessary  to  com- 
pare Raphael's  picture  with  Fra  Bartolommeo's 
Risen  Christ  with  the  Four  Evangelists.  This  is  at 
once  simpler  and  richer,  more  diversified  and  more 
homogeneous.  In  making  the  comparison  we  shall 
also  feel  that  the  maturer  Raphael  would  not  have 
introduced  the  two  nude  boy-angels  standing  before 
the  throne,  charming  as  they  are.  There  are  sufficient 
vertical  lines  in  the  picture;  lines  of  contrast  are 
required;  and  therefore  the  boys  are  seated  in  Fra 
Bartolommeo's  work. 

3. — The  Camera  Della  Segnatura 

It  was  fortunate  for  Raphael  that  no  subjects  of  a 
dramatic  nature  were  required  from  him  at  the  be- 
ginning of  his  sojourn  in  Rome.  His  task  was  to 
paint  calm  assemblies  of  philosophers,  pictures  of 
peaceful  intercourse,  where  all  depended  on  the 
artist's  inventiveness  in  the  treatment  of  simple 
movements  and  his  delicacy  of  arrangement.  These 
were  undertakings  peculiarly  suited  to  his  talents. 
He  could  not  display  on  a  large  scale  that  apprecia- 
tion of  harmonious  outline  and  proportion  which  he 
had  developed  in  the  composition  of  his  Madonnas. 
He  found  in  the  Disputa  and  the  School  of  Athens 


Raphael  133 


scope  for  that  skill  in  the  filling  of  spaces  and  grouping 
of  figures  which  formed  the  basis  of  his  later  dramatic 
paintings. 

It  is  difficult  for  the  modern  public  to  do  justice  to 
the  artistic  qualities  of  these  frescoes.  It  looks  for 
the  merit  of  the  works  to  the  expression  of  the  heads, 
in  the  thoughtful  relation  of  one  figure  to  the  other. 
The  traveller  wishes  above  all  to  learn  what  the  figures 
mean,  and  is  not  satisfied  until  he  knows  their  names. 
He  therefore  listens  gratefully  to  the  information 
given  by  the  guide,  who  knows  the  name  of  each 
person,  and  is  convinced  that  he  understands  the 
picture  better  after  receiving  this  information.  Many 
people  are  quite  satisfied  with  this,  while  some  more 
conscientious  visitors  try  to  realise  thoroughly  the 
expression  of  the  heads,  and  rivet  their  attention  on 
the  features.  Few  are  able  to  grasp  the  movement 
of  the  figures  as  a  whole  in  addition  to  studying  the 
faces,  and  to  appreciate  the  beauty  of  motive  in  the 
various  postures  of  the  leaning,  standing,  or  sitting 
figures.  Still  fewer  have  any  suspicion  that  the  real 
value  of  these  works  does  not  lie  in  the  details  but 
in  the  arrangement  of  the  whole,  in  the  harmonious 
animation  of  the  space.  They  are  decorative  works 
of  the  grandest  style,  decorative,  however,  in  a  sense 
other  than  that  in  which  the  word  is  commonly  used ; 
I  mean  that  they  are  paintings  where  the  chief  accent 
is  laid  not  on  the  individual  head,  or  the  psychological 
connection,  but  on  the  arrangement  of  the  figures 
upon  a  given  surface,  and  in  their  relative  positions  in 
the  space.  Raphael  had  a  stronger  instinct  for  all 
that  pleases  the  human  eye  than  any  painter  before 


*34 


Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


him.  A  profound  knowledge  of  history  is  not  essen- 
tial to  the  comprehension  of  these  frescoes.1  The 
subjects  are  familiar  ones,  and  it  is  a  mistake  to  try 
and  find  any  expression  of  abstruse  philosophical  or 
historical  ideas  in  the  School  of  Athens,  or  an  epitome 
of  ecclesiastical  history  in  *  the  Disputa.  Where 
Raphael  wished  to  be  distinctly  understood,  he  added 
inscriptions,  but  such  cases  are  few.  We  are  left 
without  explanation  even  of  the  chief  figures,  the 
very  pillars  of  the  composition.  The  contemporaries 
of  Raphael  did  not  ask  for  such  explanations.  The 
material  or  spiritual  motives  of  action  seemed  to 
them  everything;  the  names  were  unimportant.  No 
questions  were  asked  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  figures. 
Men  took  them  as  they  were. 

To  share  such  a  point  of  view  as  this  a  sensitiveness 
of  eye  is  necessary,  rarely  found  in  modern  days,  and 
it  is  peculiarly  hard  for  the  Germanic  races  to  ap- 
preciate fully  the  importance  attached  by  the  Roman 
to  physical  deportment  and  bearing.  The  Northern 
traveller  must  not  therefore  become  prematurely 
impatient  if  he  finds  himself  forced  to  repress  a  feeling 
of  disappointment  in  this  place,  where  he  expected  to 
see  a  representation  of  the  highest  spiritual  forces. 
Rembrandt  would  certainly  have  painted  Philosophy 
differently. 

Any  one  who  honestly  intends  to  enter  closely  into 
the  spirit  of  these  paintings  will  find  that  the  only 
method  is  to  analyse  each  figure  separatetly,  learning  it 
by  heart,  and  then  noticing  the  chain  of  connection, 

1  Cf.  Wickhoff's  lucid  essay  (Jahrb.  der  K.  Preuss.  Kunst- 
sammlungen,  1893). 


Raphael  135 


how  each  link  presupposes  and  requires  another.  This 
advice  has  already  been  given  in  the  Cicerone.  Proba- 
bly few  have  followed  it;  travellers  cannot  spare  the 
time.  Much  practice  is  needed  before  any  firm  footing 
is  to  be  found.  Our  power  of  vision  has  become  so  su- 
perficial through  its  dealings  with  the  mass  of  illustra- 
tive painting  of  the  day,  the  end  and  aim  of  which  is  a 
vague  general  impression,  that  when  dealing  with  such 
works  of  old  masters  we  have  to  spell  out  the  rudiments. 

THE  DISPUTA 

The  four  Doctors  of  the  Church  to  whom  the  for- 
mulation of  the  dogma  is  referred,  Jerome,  Gregory, 
Ambrose,  and  Augustine,  are  seated  round  an  altar 
on  which  is  a  monstrance.  The  faithful  are  grouped 
around;  dignified  divines,  standing  in  calm  medita- 
tion ;  fiery  youths  impetuous  in  prayer  and  praise.  On 
the  one  hand  reading,  on  the  other  demonstration. 
Nameless  figures  and  famous  types  are  assembled  in 
close  juxtaposition.  A  place  of  honour  is  reserved 
for  Pope  Sixtus  IV,  uncle  of  the  reigning  Pope. 

That  is  the  earthly  scene.  But  above  it  the  Per- 
sons of  the  Trinity  are  enthroned  and  with  them  in  a 
wide  semicircle  sit  a  band  of  saints.  At  the  top  are 
hovering  angels  in  parallel  lines.  Christ,  seated  and 
showing  His  wounds,  dominates  the  whole.  The 
Virgin  and  St.  John  attend  Him.  Over  Him  is  God 
the  Father  in  the  act  of  benediction;  beneath  Him, 
the  dove.  Its  head  is  the  exact  centre  of  the  vertical 
axis  of  the  picture.  Vasari  calls  the  picture  La 
Disputa  del  Santissimo  Sacramento  and  the  name  has 
survived  to  the  present  time,  inappropriate  as  it  is. 


136      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


There  is  no  disputation  in  this  assembly,  hardly  any 
speech.  It  is  intended  to  represent  the  profoundest 
certainty,  the  assured  presence  of  the  supreme  secret 
of  the  Church,  confirmed  by  the  manifestation  of  the 
Divine  Persons  themselves. 

Let  us  try  to  realise  how  the  problem  would  have 
been  solved  in  the  spirit  of  the  earlier  school.  The 
elements  demanded  had  furnished  the  theme  of  in- 
numerable altar-pictures;  a  number  of  holy  men 
tranquilly  co-existent,  and  above  them  the  denizens 
of  Heaven,  calm  as  the  moon  above  the  forest.  Ra- 
phael saw  at  once  that  mere  motives  of  standing  or 
sitting  would  be  inadequate.  The  tranquil  commun- 
ity must  be  replaced  by  an  assembly  with  movement, 
and  a  more  vigorous  activity.  He  first  differ- 
entiated the  four  figures  of  the  main  group  (the 
Doctors  of  the  Church)  by  the  motives  of  reading, 
contemplation,  rapture,  and  dictation.  He  created 
the  fine  group  of  the  impetuous  youths,  and  so 
obtained  a  contrast  to  the  peaceful  aspect  of  the 
standing  divines.  The  emotion  portrayed  is  echoed 
in  a  more  subdued  fashion  in  the  pathetic  figure  in 
front  of  the  altar  steps,  turning  his  back  to  the  spec- 
tator. As  a  contrast  to  this,  Pope  Sixtus  stands  on  the 
other  side,  calm  and  confident,  looking  to  the  front, 
with  uplifted  head,  the  true  prince  of  the  Church. 
Behind  him  is  a  purely  secular  motive:  a  lad  leaning 
over  the  balustrade,  to  whom  a  bystander  points  out 
the  Pope. 1    Opposite  in  the  other  corner  of  the  picture 

1  As  has  been  often  observed,  the  figure  of  the  pointing  man 
comes  from  Leonardo's  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  where  it  appears 
in  a  similar  place. 


Raphael  137 


is  the  same  motive  reversed,  a  youth  who  invites  the 
attention  of  an  old  man.  The  old  man  stands  bend- 
ing over  a  book  on  the  balustrade,  others  are  looking  at 
it,  and  he  seems  to  be  expounding  the  contents.  The 
youth,  however,  invites  him  to  go  up  to  the  altar  in 
the  middle  to  which  all  are  pressing.  It  may  be  said 
that  Raphael  wished  to  depict  here  heterodoxy  or 
sectarianism,1  but  each  person  in  the  composition 
was  certainly  not  determined  beforehand  with  such 
precision,  and  the  motive  in  itself  can  hardly  have 
figured  in  the  programme  prescribed  to  Raphael. 
He  had  to  introduce  the  Doctors  of  the  Church, 
Pope  Sixtus,  and  other  celebrities  of  popular  interest. 
This  he  did,  but  in  other  respects  he  retained 
absolute  freedom,  and  was  able  to  work  out  the 
motives  he  required  in  anonymous  figures.  This 
then  is  the  kernel  of  the  matter.  The  significance 
of  the  work  does  not  lie  in  its  details,  but  in  its  gen- 
eral composition,  and  justice  can  be  done  to  it  only 
when  it  is  understood  that  every  separate  part  serves 
to  help  the  general  effect  and  is  designed  with  due 
regard  to  the  whole. 

But  let  none  feel  disappointed  at  the  conclusion 
that  the  psychological  aspect  is  not  the  most  interest- 
ing factor  here.  Ghirlandajo  would  have  given  his 
heads  more  individuality,  and  Botticelli  would  have 
been  more  convincing  in  the  expression  of  religious 
feeling.  No  single  figure  here  could  be  put  on  a 
level  with  the  St.  Augustine  in  the  Ognissanti.  Ra- 
phael's work  is  on  a  different  plane;  to  paint  a  picture 

1  Cf.  a  similar  group  in  Filippino's  picture  The  Triumph  of  St. 
Thomas  (S.  Maria  sopra  Minerva). 


138      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


of  such  dimensions,  with  such  depth,  such  wealth  of 
action,  yet  clear  in  its  development  and  harmonious 
in  every  component  part,  was  an  unprecedented 
achievement.  The  first  problem  of  composition  was 
in  connection  with  the  Doctors  of  the  Church.  These 
constituted  the  chief  group  and  had  to  be  brought  into 
due  prominence.  If  the  figures  were  to  be  large,  they 
could  not  be  placed  too  far  back,  but  on  the  other  hand, 
if  this  condition  had  been  observed  the  picture  would 
have  become  a  mere  strip.  After  some  preliminary 
hesitation,  Raphael,  in  order  to  give  depth  to  the 
picture,  ventured  to  remove  the  Fathers  of  the  Church 
to  the  background,  raising  them  on  a  step.  By  this 
expedient  the  composition  was  started  upon  the 
happiest  course.  The  idea  of  the  step  proved  most 
fertile:  all  the  figures  join  hands  to  some  extent  and 
lead  up  to  the  centre  of  the  picture.  A  further  result 
was  achieved  by  the  addition  of  the  gesticulating  men 
on  the  farther  side  of  the  altar;  they  are  placed  there 
in  order  to  call  attention  to  Jerome  and  Ambrose, 
who  are  sitting  at  the  back.1 

There  is  a  distinct  trend  from  the  left  side  to  the 
centre  of  the  picture.  The  young  man  who  is  point- 
ing, the  praying  figures,  and  the  pathetic  figure 
seen  from  behind  combine  to  produce  a  sum  of  uni- 
form action  which  readily  attracts  the  eye.  Later 
in  his  career  Raphael  continued  to  show  this  same 
attention  to  the  guidance  of  the  spectator's  eye.  If 
then  the  last  of  the  central  figures,  Augustine,  who  is 
dictating,  has  turned  round,  the  object  of  this  posture 

1  They  were  an  afterthought. 


Raphael  139 


is  apparent:  it  is  intended  to  be  the  connecting  link 
with  the  right  side,  where  movement  becomes  quies- 
cent. Such  considerations  of  form,  are  complete 
innovations  on  the  methods  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
In  other  respects  Raphael  has  presented  the  Fathers 
of  the  Church  in  the  most  simple  aspects.  A  lowered 
profile  and  a  raised  profile  differentiate  the  first  two 
figures,  while  the  third  shows  but  a  slight  divergence 
of  attitude.  They  are  also  seated  as  naturally  as 
possible.  This  is  his  system.  The  remoter  figures, 
if  they  are  to  produce  the  effect  of  size,  admit  of  no 
other  treatment.  A  Quattrocento  picture  like  Filip- 
pino's  Triumph  of  St.  Thomas  fails  in  this  very  respect. 

The  action  is  more  diversified  as  the  figures  ap- 
proach the  foreground.  The  most  varied  movements 
are  presented  by  the  bending  figures  with  their  com- 
panions in  the  corners.  These  corner-groups  are 
arranged  symmetrically,  and  are  similarly  connected 
with  the  more  central  personages  by  pointing  figures.1 
vSymmetry  pervades  the  whole  picture,  but  is  every- 
where more  or  less  disguised  in  particular  cases. 
The  greatest  divergences  exist  in  the  middle  zone. 
Even  here,  however,  there  are  no  violent  dislocations. 

1  The  motive  of  the  parapet  is  due  on  the  one  side  to  the  gap 
caused  by  a  door,  which  Raphael  tried  to  remedy  by  building  a 
little  wall  above  it.  He  then  repeats  the  motive  on  the  other 
side  as  a  balustrade.  The  advanced  Cinquecentists  could  not 
tolerate  such  encroachments  in  a  picture.  In  the  Heliodorus  room 
therefore,  the  ground-line  of  the  picture  is  taken  at  the  height 
of  the  lintel  of  the  door.  It  is  characteristic  of  Venice  that 
Titian  in  his  Presentation  of  the  Virgin  did  not  hesitate  to  sacrifice 
the  lower  limbs  of  some  figures  to  a  door.  Such  a  solecism  would 
have  been  impossible  in  Rome. 


140      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Raphael  still  proceeds  cautiously:  he  wishes  to  com- 
bine and  to  calm,  not  to  agitate  and  tear  asunder. 
The  lines  are  drawn  with  a  delicacy  of  feeling  that 
might  be  called  reverent,  so  that  no  one  jars  on  the 
other,  and  amidst  all  the  prevailing  abundance  the 
impression  of  tranquillity  predominates.  The  two 
portions  of  the  assembly  are  united  by  the  line  of  the 
landscape  in  the  background  and  harmonised  with 
the  upper  belt  of  figures  with  a  like  intention. 

Throughout  this  system  of  tranquil  lines  a  higher 
object  is  kept  in  view  in  the  individual  distinctness 
which  Raphael  gives  to  every  person.  Where  the 
earlier  masters  crowded  their  figures  together,  and 
placed  one  head  behind  another,  the  artist  who  had 
been  educated  in  the  simplicity  of  Perugino  separated 
his  figures  so  that  each  is  clearly  perceptible.  Here 
again  a  novel  regard  for  the  eye  of  the  spectator 
determines  the  treatment.  The  treatment  of  masses 
of  figures  by  Botticelli  or  Filippino  required  a  con- 
centrated examination  at  close  quarters,  if  one  really 
wished  to  grasp  any  particular  point  of  the  surging 
mass.  The  first  requirement  of  the  Art  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  which  rivets  attention  on  the  whole, 
was  simplification. 

Such  qualities  as  these  determine  the  value  of  the 
work,  and  not  its  details  of  draughtsmanship.  No  one 
will  be  able  to  deny  that  the  composition  contains  a 
considerable  amount  of  essentially  new  movement. 
Much  of  it,  however,  is  still  timid  and  uncertain. 
The  figure  of  Sixtus  IV  is  vague  in  its  effect.  It  is 
not  clear  whether  he  is  moving  or  standing  still,  and  it 
takes  some  time  to  discover  that  he  is  propping  a  book 


Raphael  141 


against  his  knee.  The  pointing  youth  opposite  him  is 
an  unfortunate  figure  derived  from  a  motive  of  Leo- 
nardo's. The  want  of  character  in  the  heads,  when 
they  are  not  portraits,  has  an  unpleasant  effect.  We 
hardly  venture  to  think  how  the  picture  would  have 
looked,  had  Leonardo  represented  the  congregation  of 
the  faithful  by  men  of  his  creation. 

But,  as  we  have  already  said,  the  great  qualities 
of  Raphael's  Disputa  and  the  real  conditions  of  its 
effectiveness  are  the  general  motives.  The  division 
of  the  pictorial  surface  as  a  whole,  the  conduct 
of  the  lower  figures,  the  bold  sweep  of  the  upper 
semicircle  with  the  saints,  the  contrast  between 
movement  and  stately  enthronement,  the  combina- 
tion of  richness  and  repose  produce  a  picture  which 
has  often  been  praised  as  a  perfect  example  of  the 
monumental  religious  style.  Its  special  characteristic 
is  given  it  by  the  most  charming  commingling 
of  youthful  timidity  with  the  consciousness  of  dawn- 
ing power. 

THE  SCHOOL  OF  ATHENS 

Theology  has  its  antithesis  in  Philosophy,  the  pur- 
suit of  profane  knowledge.  The  name  given  to  the 
next  fresco,  The  School  of  Athens,  is  almost  as  fanciful 
as  that  of  the  Disputa,  It  would  be  more  permissible, 
indeed,  to  call  this  a  Disputa,  for  the  central  motive 
is  the  two  leaders  of  philosophy,  Plato  and  Aristotle, 
engaged  in  argument.  Rows  of  attentive  listeners 
stand  around  them.  Socrates  is  near  them  with  his 
own  circle  of  scholars.    He  is  engaged  in  his  favourite 


142       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


interrogation,  and  counts  off  his  premisses  on  his 
fingers.  Diogenes,  in  the  costume  of  one  who  has  no 
needs,  is  lying  on  the  steps.  An  elderly  man  writing, 
before  whom  is  displayed  a  tablet  containing  the 
musical  scale,  may  be  Pythagoras.  If  we  name 
Ptolemy  and  Zoroaster,  the  astronomers,  and  Euclid, 
the  geometrician,  we  have  exhausted  the  historical 
components  of  the  picture. 

The  difficulty  of  the  composition  was  greater  here, 
because  of  the  absence  of  the  heavenly  zone.  Raphael 
was  driven  to  call  architecture  to  his  aid.  He  con- 
structed an  immense  vaulted  hall,  and  placed  in  the 
foreground  a  flight  of  four  steps  which  extend  the  full 
breadth  of  the  picture.  He  thus  obtained  a  double 
stage,  the  space  below  the  steps  and  the  platform 
above  them. 

In  contradistinction  to  the  Disputa,  where  all  the 
parts  converge  to  the  centre,  the  whole  picture  is 
here  broken  up  into  a  number  of  isolated  groups  and 
even  isolated  figures.  This  is  the  natural  expression 
of  the  diversity  of  scientific  investigation.  Any 
search  for  definite  historical  allusions  is  as  misplaced 
here  as  in  the  Disputa.  We  seem  to  divine  an  il- 
luminating thought  in  the  manner  in  which  the  master 
has  grouped  the  physical  sciences  below,  and  left 
the  upper  space  free  for  speculative  philosophy;  but 
perhaps  even  this  interpretation  overshoots  the  mark. 
The  material  and  spiritual  motives  are  far  richer  here 
than  in  the  Disputa.  The  subject  required  a  greater 
variety  of  treatment,  but  it  is  noticeable  that  Ra- 
phael's own  power  of  suggestion  had  developed.  The 
situations  are  more  clearly  defined,    the  gestures 


Raphael  143 


more  significant.  It  is  easier  to  remember  these 
figures. 

Raphael's  treatment  of  the  group  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle  is  especially  noteworthy.  The  theme  was  no 
new  one.  We  may  take,  for  comparison,  Luca  della 
Robbia's  relief  of  Philosophy  on  the  Campanile  at 
Florence.  Two  Italians  are  engaged  in  a  hot  dispute 
with  characteristic  Southern  energy.  The  one  insists 
on  the  text  of  his  book,  the  other,  gesticulating  with  all 
his  ten  fingers,  shows  him  that  his  argument  is  absurd. 
Other  disputations  are  to  be  found  on  Donatello's 
bronze  doors  at  St.  Lorenzo.  Raphael  was  obliged 
to  reject  all  these  -motives.  The  taste  of  the  sixteenth 
century  insisted  on  reticence  of  gesture.  The  great 
philosophers  stand  side  by  side  in  dignified  composure ; 
the  one  who  extends  his  arm  and  stretches  his  out- 
spread hand  over  the  earth  is  Aristotle,  the  great  con- 
structor; the  other,  Plato,  points  upwards  with  his 
finger.  We  do  not  know  whence  Raphael  gained  the 
knowledge  that  enabled  him  to  bring  out  the  dis- 
tinctive characteristics  of  the  two  philosophers  so 
ably,  that  these  two  figures  seem  to  us  credible 
portraits. 

The  figures  which  stand  to  the  right  against  the 
frame  are  also  full  of  expression.  The  isolated  figure 
with  the  white  beard,  wrapped  in  a  cloak,  quite  simple 
in  silhouette,  is  marked  by  a  grand  tranquillity.  Near 
him  another,  leaning  on  the  parapet,  looks  at  the 
writing  boy,  who  sits  bending  over  his  work,  with 
legs  crossed,  facing  the  spectator.  It  is  by  such 
figures  that  the  progress  made  by  Raphael  must  be 
estimated. 


144      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  motive  of  Diogenes*  recumbent  position  was 
new.  It  is  that  of  the  beggar  who  lies  lazily  on  the 
steps  of  the  church. 

The  richness  of  detail  increases  more  and  more. 
Not  only  is  the  scene  of  the  geometrical  demonstration 
excellently  conceived  from  the  psychological  point 
of  view — not  only  are  the  different  degrees  of  in- 
telligence in  the  scholars  well  contrasted — but  the 
movements  of  kneeling  and  bending  in  the  individual 
characters  deserve  to  be  accurately  studied  and  im- 
pressed on  the  memory. 

The  Pythagoras  group  is  still  more  interesting.  A 
man  writing,  in  profile,  sitting  on  a  low  seat,  with  one 
foot  on  a  stool,  and  behind  him  other  figures,  pressing 
forward  and  bending  over;  a  perfect  garland  of  curves. 
Then  a  second  scribe,  also  seated,  but  confronting  the 
spectator,  his  limbs  in  a  more  complicated  posture. 
Between  the  two  a  standing  figure,  who  holds  an 
open  book  against  his  thigh  and  seems  to  be  quoting  a 
passage  from  it.  There  is  no  need  to  trouble  about 
the  meaning  of  all  this.  The  figure  was  not  a  link 
in  a  spiritual  sequence ;  it  owes  its  being  to  its  material 
motive.  The  upraised  foot,  the  outstretched  arm, 
the  turn  of  the  upper  part  of  the  body,  and  the  con- 
trasted inclination  of  the  head  give  it  a  distinctly 
plastic  character.  If  the  Northern  student  is  in- 
clined to  think  that  this  fertile  motive  has  been  in- 
troduced too  artificially,  he  must  be  warned  against 
hasty  criticism.  The  Italian  has  so  much  more 
capacity  for  movement  than  we  have,  that  his  limits 
of  the  natural  do  not  coincide  with  ours.  Raphael 
here  is  clearly  treading  in  the  steps  of  Michelangelo, 


Raphael  145 


and  in  following  that  stronger  will  he  has  temporarily 
abandoned  his  natural  tendency. 1 

We  need  not  limit  our  examination  to  the  individual 
figures.  The  motives  of  movement  that  Raphael 
presents  here  and  there  are  a  minor  achievement  com- 
pared with  the  art  displayed  in  the  grouping.  Earlier 
Art  can  show  nothing  in  the  least  comparable  to  the 
varied  arrangement  of  these  figures.  The  group  of 
geometricians  solves  a  problem  which  very  few  have 
essayed:  five  persons  facing  towards  one  point,  clearly 
developed,  "pure"  in  line,  and  displaying  a  marvellous 
variety  of  attitudes.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the 
group  opposite,  conceived  on  a  still  larger  scale:  the 
way  in  which  the  multiple  movements  complete  each 
other,  in  which  the  numerous  figures  are  brought  into 
the  required  connection,  forming  as  it  were  a  chorus 
of  many  voices,  everything  appearing  natural  and  in- 
evitable, is  a  proof  of  consummate  art.  If  we  look 
at  the  construction  as  a  whole,  we  shall  understand 
what  place  the  youthful  figure  at  the  very  back  has 
in  this  company.  It  is  conjectured  to  be  a  portrait  of 
some  prince — that  may  be,  but  its  formal  function  is 
merely  to  supply  the  necessary  vertical  line  in  the 
tangle  of  curved  lines. 

As  in  the  Disputa,  the  wealth  of  motives  has  been 
brought  to  the  foreground.    At  the  back,  on  the  plat- 

1  The  ideas  borrowed  from  Donatello's  Paduan  reliefs  (cf. 
Voge,  Raffael  und  Donatello,  1896)  appear  in  such  subordinate 
figures  that  they  seem  to  have  been  introduced  as  a  jest.  In 
any  case  there  is  no  question  of  borrowings  due  to  poverty  of  ideas 
or  difficulties  of  execution.  Koopmann  (Rafael's  Handzeich- 
nungen,  1897,  p.  380  et  seq.)  has  attempted  to  prove  on  remark- 

10 


146      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


form,  a  forest  of  perpendicular  lines;  in  the  foreground 
where  the  figures  are  large,  curved  lines  and  compli- 
cated groupings. 

Everything  round  the  central  figures  is  symmetrical ; 
then  the  tension  relaxes,  and  on  one  side  the  upper 
mass  itself  spreads  unsymmetrically  down  the  steps, 
a  disturbance  of  the  equilibrium  which  is  rectified 
by  the  irregularity  of  the  groups  in  the  foreground.  It 
is  certainly  astonishing  that  in  this  crowd  the  figures 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle  in  the  distant  background 
produce  the  effect  of  being  the  chief  figures.  This  is 
doubly  incomprehensible,  if  we  notice  the  scale  of  size, 
which,  according  to  an  ideal  calculation,  diminishes 
too  rapidly.  Thus  the  Diogenes  on '  the  steps  is 
abruptly  drawn  on  a  scale  different  to  that  of  the 
nearest  figures  in  the  foreground.  The  marvel  is 
explained  by  the  use  made  of  the  architecture.  The 
disputing  philosophers  stand  exactly  in  the  light  under 
the  last  arch.  Their  figures  would  be  lost  but  for  this 
halo,  which  finds  an  effective  repetition  in  the  con- 
centric lines  of  the  nearer  vaulting.  A  similar  motive, 
it  may  be  remembered,  is  employed  in  Leonardo's 
Last  Supper.  If  the  architectonic  element  were 
removed,  the  whole  composition  would  fall  to  pieces. 

The  relation  of  the  figures  to  the  space  is  conceived 
in  an  entirely  new  spirit.  The  immense  vaulted  roof 
extends  far  above  the  heads  of  the  persons,  and  the 
tranquil,  solen  n  atmosphere  of  this  atrium  communi- 


able  evidence  that  they  were  introduced  without  the  sanction  of 
the  master.  He  treats  the  matter  altogether  in  too  serious  a 
spirit. 


Raphael  147 


cates  itself  to  the  spectator.  Bramante's  new  St. 
Peter's  was  designed  in  this  spirit,  and,  according  to 
Vasari,  Bramante  should  be  considered  the  creator  of 
the  architecture  of  this  fresco. 1 

PARNASSUS 

It  may  be  imagined  that  Raphael  was  glad  not  to 
find  himself  confronted  with  a  similar  wall  for  the 

1  The  Disputa  and  the  School  of  Athens  are  chiefly  known  in 
Germany  by  engravings,  and  the  profound  impression  of  space 
given  by  the  frescoes  is  reproduced  better  by  even  a  super- 
ficial engraving  than  by  any  photograph.  Volpato  in  the  eight- 
eenth century  engraved  the  Stanze  in  a  set  of  seven  pla  .es.  These 
have  been  for  generations  the  mementos  the  traveller  brings 
home  with  him  from  Rome,  and  these  plates  are  not  to  be  despised 
even  now  that  Keller  and  Jacoby  have  essayed  the  task  with  other 
eyes  and  different  means.  Jos.  Keller's  Disputa,  which  appeared 
1 841-1856,  puts  all  earlier  reproductions  into  the  shade  by  the 
size  of  the  pla\\  and,  while  Volpato  only  attempted  to  reproduce 
the  general  configuration,  the  pencil  of  the  German  explored  all 
the  depths  of  Raphael's  individual  manner.  He  places  his 
figures  oh  the  surface  clearly  and  firmly  with  strong  shadows.  He 
wishes  above  everything  to  be  distinct,  and  makes  no  attempt  to 
reproduce  the  light  tone  of  the  fresco.  Here  Jacoby  takes  up 
the  task.  His  School  of  Athens  is  the  result  of  ten  years'  work 
(1 872-1 882).  The  layman  can  have  no  idea  what  an  amount  of 
consideration  it  required  to  find  equivalent  tones  for  each 
colour- value  of  the  original  on  the  copper-plate,  to  reproduce  the 
softness  of  the  painting,  and  to  achieve  distinctness  while  re- 
taining the  light  scale  of  tones  of  the  original.  The  engraving 
was  an  unparalleled  achievement.  Jacoby,  in  his  essay,  went 
perhaps  altogether  beyond  the  limits  imposed  on  the  graphic  arts 
in  such  cases.  There  are  still  many  amateurs  who  in  such  re- 
ductions of  the  original  prefer  the  abbreviated  expression  of  the 
simple  old  line-engraving,  because  in  this  it  is  easier  to  retain  some 
trace  of  the  monumental  impression. 


148      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


third  task,  the  fresco  of  The  Poets.  The  narrower 
surface  here  with  the  window  in  the  middle  naturally 
suggested  new  ideas.  Raphael  surmounted  the  win- 
dow with  a  hill,  a  veritable  Parnassus,  and  thus  ob- 
tained two  small  foregrounds  below  and  a  somewhat 
broader  podium  at  the  top.  Here  Apollo  is  seated 
with  the  Muses.  Homer  too  is  there,  and  farther  in 
the  background  Dante  and  Virgil1  are  recognisable. 
The  other  poets  throng  the  slopes  of  the  hill,  stroll- 
ing alone  or  standing  together  in  groups.  Here  a 
desultory  conversation  is  being  kept  up,  there  some 
spirited  recitation  arrests  attention.  As  the  com- 
position of  poetry  is  not  a  social  task,  it  was  diffi- 
cult to  give  any  psychological  characteristics  to  a 
group  of  poets.  Raphael  confined  himself  to  giving 
the  expression  of  inspiration  twice:  to  Apollo,  who  is 
playing  the  violin  and  looking  upwards  in  rapture, 
and  to  Homer,  who  is  reciting  in  poetic  frenzy  and 
also  looking  heavenward,  but  with  sightless  eyes. 
Artistic  economics  required  a  diminution  of  excite- 
ment in  the  other  groups.  The  divine  madness 
shows  itself  only  in  the  vicinity  of  the  god.  Beneath, 
we  are  amongst  mortals  like  ourselves.  Here  again 
we  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  give  any  definite  names. 
Sappho  is  pointed  out  by  an  inscription,  since  other- 
wise no  one  would  have  known  who  the  maiden  was. 
Raphael  clearly  wanted  a  female  figure  as  a  contrast. 

1  Virgil  is  no  longer  fantastically  arrayed,  with  a  pointed 
crown,  as  Botticelli  still  represented  him,  but  in  the  antique 
dress  of  the  Roman  poet.  Signorelli  was  the  first  to  represent 
him  thus  (Orvieto).  Cf.  Volkmann,  lconografia  Dantesca, 
S.  72. 


Raphael  149 


Dante  is  insignificant,  almost  an  accessory.  The 
really  striking  figures  are  types  to  whom  no  names  are 
assignable.  Two  portraits  only  are  distinguishable 
among  the  crowd:  one,  quite  on  the  edge  of  the  pic- 
ture to  the  right,  is  probably  Sannazaro ;  the  other,  to 
whom  Raphael  has  given  the  pose  of  his  portrait  of 
himself,  has  not  yet  been  satisfactorily  identified. 

Apollo  is  seated,  as  are  the  two  Muses  at  his  side. 
He  is  painted  full-face,  while  the  Muses  are  in  profile. 
They  thus  form  a  broad  triangle,  the  centre  of  the 
composition.  The  other  Muses  stand  about  in  the 
background.  The  line  is  terminated  on  the  right  by  a 
dignified  figure,  turned  away  from  the  spectator,  and 
balanced  by  the  full  face  of  the  Homer  on  the  opposite 
side.  These  two  forms  are  the  corner  pillars  of  the 
Parnassian  assembly.  This  grandly  constructed  group 
resolves  itself  in  the  boy  at  Homer's  feet,  who  tran- 
scribes his  verses.  On  the  opposite  side  the  composi- 
tion takes  an  unexpected  direction,  extending  into  the 
background ;  the  man  next  to  the  female  figure,  turn- 
ing her  back,  is  only  three  parts  visible;  he  is  walking 
from  the  farther  side  of  the  hill  into  the  picture.  The 
impression  of  this  movement  is  intensified  by  the 
laurel-bushes  which  appear  in  the  background.  At- 
tentive study  of  the  disposition  of  the  trees  in  the 
picture  will  show  how  important  their  share  in  it  is. 
They  introduce  a  diagonal  movement  into  the  com- 
position and  modify  the  stiffness  of  the  symmetrical 
arrangement.  Were  it  not  for  the  trees  in  the  centre, 
Apollo  would  be  lost  among  the  Muses. 

A  contrast  between  the  groups  of  the  foreground  is 
attained,  in  so  far  as  the  left  group,  with  a  tree  as  its 


150      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


focus,  appears  quite  isolated,  while  on  the  right  the 
connection  with  the  upper  figures  is  maintained. 
There  is  the  same  trend  of  movement  as  in  the  School 
of  Athens. 

The  Parnassus  shows  less  beauty  of  space  than  the 
other  pictures.  There  is  a  sense  of  narrowness  and 
crowding  on  the  hill,  and  few  of  the  figures  are  con- 
vincing. Too  many  of  them  suffer  from  a  certain 
pettiness.  The  most  unsuccessful  creations  are  the 
Muses,  mere  shapes  who  are  none  the  more  interest- 
ing for  certain  details  taken  from  "antique"  art. 
One  of  the  seated  figures  imitates  Ariadne  in  her 
drapery,  the  attitude  of  the  other  might  be  traced 
back  to  a  figure  like  that  of  the  so-called  "Suppliant 
Woman."  The  exposure  of  the  shoulder,  a  motive 
obtrusively  repeated,  is  also  taken  from  the  antique. 
If  only  Raphael  could  have  shown  us  more  life-like 
shoulders!  In  spite  of  all  the  roundness  of  form  we 
think  regretfully  of  Botticelli's  angular  Graces.  One 
simple  touch  of  naturalism  strikes  us,  that  is  the  neck 
of  the  figure  standing  with  its  back  towards  us;  it  is 
the  true  neck  of  a  Roman  woman.  The  best  figures 
are  the  absolutely  simple  ones.  The  contorted  Sappho 
shows  to  what  preposterous  inventions  the  desire 
to  be  interesting  in  movement  could  lead  the  artist. 
Here  Raphael  momentarily  lost  his  way,  and  entered 
into  competition  with  Michelangelo  without  properly 
understanding  him.  We  need  but  compare  one  of 
the  Sistine  Sibyls  with  this  unfortunate  poetess  to 
appreciate  the  difference. 

Another  tour-de-force,  which  we  do  not  wish  to 
censure,  is  the  sharp  foreshortening  of  the  arm  of  the 


Raphael  151 


man  who  is  pointing  to  the  front.  Every  artist  of 
that  day  had  to  solve  problems  of  this  sort.  Michel- 
angelo expressed  his  opinion  on  the  subject  in  his 
figure  of  God  Almighty  creating  the  sun. 

Something  must  now  be  said  of  a  peculiarity  in  the 
calculation  of  space  in  the  picture.  It  is  apparent 
that  the  Sappho  and  the  figure  corresponding  to  her 
project  over  the  frame  of  the  window.  This  effect  is 
unpleasant,  because  the  figures  thus  seem  to  leave  the 
flat  surface.  It  is  difficult  to  understand  how  Ra- 
phael could  have  prepetuated  such  a  brutality.  The 
truth  is  that  he  calculated  quite  otherwise,  tie 
thought  that,  by  means  of  the  archway,  painted  in 
perspective,  which  encircles  the  picture,  he  would 
be  able  to  push  the  window  back,  and  give  the  im- 
pression that  it  was  somewhere  in  the  background 
of  the  picture.  This  calculation  was  false,  and 
Raphael  never  again  made  a  similar  attempt. 
Modern  engravers  have,  however,  intensified  the 
mistake,  by  engraving  the  picture  without  the  out- 
side border,  which  alone  explains  the  arrangement 
of  the  space.1 

1  The  grisaille  under  the  Parnassus  cannot  in  my  opinion  be 
considered  as  co- temporary  with  the  other  paintings  in  the  room. 
As  opposed  to  the  new  interpretation  of  them  lately  propounded 
by  Wickhoff,  the  older  reading,  which  takes  them  to  represent 
Augustus  preventing  the  burning  of  the  Mneid,  and  Alexander 
hiding  Homer's  poems  in  a  coffin,  seems  still  to  have  its  advan- 
tages, since  the  gestures  at  least  cannot  be  otherwise  accounted 
for.  There  is  no  burning  of  books  represented,  but  a  prevention 
of  the  act,  and  the  documents  are  being  placed  in  a  sarcophagus, 
not  taken  out.  Every  unprejudiced  observer  will,  in  my  opinion, 
come  to  this  conclusion. 


152      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


JURISPRUDENCE 

Raphael  was  spared  the  task  of  painting  an  assembly 
of  Jurists.  For  the  fourth  wall  only  two  small  cere- 
monial scenes  from  legal  history  were  required  at  the 
sides  of  the  window,  and  over  it,  in  the  filling  of  the 
arch,  are  the  sitting  figures  of  Fortitude,  Prudence, 
and  Temperance,  the  virtues  necessary  for  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  law. 

As  an  expression  of  the  virtues  they  are  intended 
to  typify,  these  symbolic  figures,  will  rouse  but  faint 
enthusiasm.  They  are  uninteresting  female  figures, 
the  two  outside  ones  animated  in  gesture,  the  other 
calmer.  They  are  all  placed  low  down,  in  order  to 
secure  ampler  motives  of  movement.  Temperance  is 
seen  to  raise  her  bit  and  bridle  with  incomprehensible 
deliberation.  In  her  general  action  she  is  a  pendant 
to  the  Sappho  in  the  Parnassus.  The  turn  of  the 
upper  part  of  the  body,  the  outstretched  arms,  and 
the  posture  of  the  legs  are  similar.  She  is,  however, 
drawn  on  a  better  and  larger  scale  and  is  more 
compact.  The  increasing  strength  of  style  is  well 
seen  here.  The  Prudence,  the  repose  of  which  is  in 
itself  pleasant,  further  possesses  great  beauty  of  line. 
In  the  drawing  it  shows  a  higher  conception  of  clarity 
than  the  Parnassus.  We  may  compare  the  arm  on 
which  the  figure  leans  with  the  same  motive  in  the 
Muse  to  the  left  of  Apollo,  where  the  meaning  of  the 
attitude  is  not  well  expressed.  From  this  point 
there  is  gradual  development,  culminating  in  the 
vSibyls  in  S.  Maria  della  Pace:  there  is  an  enormous 
addition  to  the  wealth  of  action,  and  a  similar  pro- 


Raphael  153 


gress  in  lucidity  of  motive.  The  third  of  the  Sibyls 
must  be  specially  mentioned  in  this  connection. 
How  convincingly  are  the  structural  elements 
worked  out  in  the  head,  the  neck,  and  the  turn  of 
the  elbow! 

The  Sibyls  are  placed  upon  a  dark  background  of 
tapestry,  while  the  legal  Virtues  stand  out  against 
a  brilliantly  blue  sky.  This  is  an  essential  mark  of 
the  difference  of  style. 

The  two  scenes  from  the  history  of  Jurisprudence, 
the  delivery  of  the  secular  and  the  ecclesiastical  codes, 
are  interesting  as  the  representation  of  a  ceremonial 
function  in  the  spirit  of  the  dawning  sixteenth  century. 
But  it  is  also  surprising  to  see  here,  just  where  the 
Disputa  joins  on,  how  Raphael,  at  the  close  of  his 
labours  in  the  Camera  della  Segnatura,  began  to  work 
with  greater  breadth  and  repose,  and  how,  even  in 
the  size  of  his  figures,  he  had  far  exceeded  the  original 
scale.  It  is  a  pity  that  the  room  no  longer  has  its 
old  wood  panelling.  The  effect  would  at  any  rate 
be  more  restful  than  at  present,  with  the  white  stand- 
ing figures  painted  on  the  plinth.  There  is  always 
some  danger  in  placing  figures  below  figures.  The 
motive  is  repeated  in  the  following  rooms.  It  is  far 
more  endurable  where  it  is  part  of  the  original  arrange- 
ment, since  these  plastically  treated  Caryatides  form 
a  distinct  contrast  to  the  picturesque  style  of  the 
paintings.  It  may  be  said  that  it  is  largely  due  to 
them  that  the  pictures  look  like  paintings,  since  they 
drive  them  back  to  the  flat  surface.  But  this  relation 
does  not  exist  in  the  first  room,  where  the  style  is  still 
far  from  picturesque. 


154       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


4. — The  Camera  d'  Eliodoro 

Leaving  the  emblematic  pictures  of  the  Camera 
della  Segnatura  we  enter  the  room  of  the  historical 
frescoes.  More  than  this:  It  is  also  the  room  of  the 
new  grand  pictorial  style.  The  figures  are  larger  in 
size,  and  more  imposingly  plastic  in  effect.  It  looks 
as  if  a  hole  had  been  made  in  the  wall.  The  figures 
stand  out  from  a  deep  and  dark  recess,  and  the  en- 
framing mouldings  are  treated  with  painted  shadows 
that  give  a  plastic  illusion.  If  we  look  back  at  the 
Disputa,  it  appears  like  a  piece  of  tapestry,  flat  and 
light.  The  paintings  contain  less,  but  this  less  pro- 
duces a  more  striking  effect.  There  are  no  artificial 
and  subtle  configurations,  but  imposing  masses 
strongly  contrasted.  No  trace  is  left  of  specious 
daintiness,  no  display  of  attitudinising  philosophers 
and  poets.  In  place  of  this,  there  is  abundance  of 
passion  and  expressive  movement.  The  first  apart- 
ment will  always  rank  higher  as  decorative  art,  but  in 
the  Stanza  of  Heliodonis  Raphael  has  provided  a 
model  of  monumental  narrative  for  all  time. 

THE  CHASTISEMENT  OF  HELIODORUS 

We  read  in  the  second  book  of  the  Maccabees  how 
the  Syrian  general,  Heliodorus,  set  out  for  Jerusalem, 
at  the  command  of  his  king,  to  carry  off  from  the 
temple  the  money  belonging  to  the  widows  and  or- 
phans. The  women  and  children,  thus  threatened 
with  the  loss  of  their  property,  ran  weeping  about  the 
streets.  The  High  Priest,  pale  with  fear,  prayed 
before  the  altar.    No  representations  or  entreaties 


Raphael  155 


could  deter  Heliodorus  from  his  purpose.  He  broke 
into  the  treasury  and  emptied  the  coffers.  Then 
suddenly  a  heavenly  horseman,  in  golden  armour, 
appeared  and  hurled  the  robber  to  the  ground,  tramp- 
ling him  beneath  his  horse's  hoofs,  while  two  youths 
scourged  him  with  rods. 

This  is  the  received  story.  Raphael  has  combined 
the  various  incidents  into  one  picture,  not  in  the 
manner  of  the  old  painters,  who  did  not  hesitate  to 
place  different  scenes. in  close  juxtaposition,  but  with- 
out violating  the  unities  of  time  and  place.  He  does 
not  give  the  scene  in  the  treasury,  but  shows  Helio- 
dorus in  the  act  of  leaving  the  temple  laden  with  the 
plunder.  He  introduces  the  women  and  children,  who 
are  described  as  running  screaming  through  the  streets, 
into  the  same  place,  and  makes  them  witnesses  of 
the  divine  interposition.  The  High  Priest,  who 
prays  to  God  for  help,  naturally  finds  a  place  in  the 
picture. 

The  greatest  surprise  for  the  public  of  the  day  was 
the  way  in  which  Raphael  arranged  his  scenes.  It  was 
customary  to  find  the  chief  action  in  the  middle  of  the 
picture,  but  here  there  is  a  great  empty  space  in  the 
centre  and  the  culminating  scene  is  pushed  away  to 
the  extreme  edge  of  the  picture.  At  the  present  day 
we  can  hardly  adequately  appreciate  the  impression 
produced  by  such  a  composition,  for  we  have  since 
been  educated  to  accept  very  different  manifestations 
of  "formlessness. "  People  then  must  have  really 
believed  that  they  saw  the  story  taking  place  under 
their  very  eyes,  with  all  the  suddenness  of  miracle. 

In  addition  to  this,  the  scene  of  the  punishment  i? 


156      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


worked  out  on  new  dramatic  laws.  The  way  in 
which  the  Quattrocento  would  have  told  the  story  is 
obvious.  Heliodorus  would  lie  bleeding  under  the 
horse's  hoofs,  and  the  youths,  one  on  each  side,  would 
be  striking  him  with  their  scourges.1  Raphael  de- 
picts the  moment  of  suspense.  The  evil-doer  has 
just  been  thrown  down,  the  rider  wheels  his  horse 
in  order  to  trample  him.  The  youths  are  only  just 
rushing  forward  with  the  rods.  Giulio  Romano,  later, 
composed  the  beautiful  Stoning  of  Stephen  (in  Genoa) 
on  a  similar  plan;  the  stones  are  lifted,  but  the  saint 
is  still  unharmed.2  Here  the  movement  of  the  youths 
has  the  special  advantage  that  the  impetuosity  of 
their  rush  lends  additional  spirit  to  the  horse,  re- 
peating, as  it  does,  the  same  motive  of  lightning  swift- 
ness. The  speed  of  movement,  in  which  their  feet 
hardly  seem  to  touch  the  ground,  is  depicted  with 
marvellous  skill.  The  horse  is  less  good,  for  Raphael 
was  no  animal  painter. 

The  prostrate  Heliodorus,  on  whom  vengeance  falls, 
would  have  been  depicted  by  the  Quattrocento  as  a 
common  rascal,  a  nursery  ogre  without  a  single 
redeeming  feature.  The  sixteenth  century  held  other 
views.  Raphael  did  not  make  him  ignoble.  His 
companions  are  shouting.  He  himself,  though  fallen, 
is  calm  and  dignified.  The  head  itself  is  a  master- 
piece of  Cinquecentist  force  of  expression.  The 

1  This  is  the  version  adopted  by  Michelangelo,  who  introduces 
the  story  in  the  Sistine  ceiling,  on  a  small  scale  (in  one  of  the 
bronze  medallions). 

2  The  same  idea  had  been  worked  out  in  the  Stoning  of  Stephen 
in  the  Sistine  tapestries. 


Raphael  157 


painful  upraising  of  the  head,  the  essentials  of  which 
are  indicated  in  the  fewest  possible  forms,  is  un- 
paralleled in  earlier  artists,  and  the  motive  of  the  body 
must  be  considered  both  new  and  far-reaching  in  its 
influence.1 

The  women  and  children  stand  opposite  to  the 
group  of  the  horseman,  huddled  together,  all  move- 
ment arrested,  and  showing  a  compact  outline.  The 
impression  of  numbers  is  produced  by  very  simple 
means.  If  we  count  the  figures,  we  shall  be  surprised 
to  find  how  few  they  are,  but  all  the  movements,  the 
inquiring  upward  glance,  the  pointing  hand,  the 
shrinking  and  seeking  for  concealment,  are  developed 
in  telling  lines  and  extremely  effective  contrasts. 

Pope  Julius,  seated  calmly  in  his  litter,  is  seen 
above  the  crowd.  He  is  looking  into  the  picture,  to- 
wards the  background.  His  retinue,  also  portrait- 
figures,  take  no  part  in  the  event,  and  it  is  difficult 
to  understand  how  Raphael  could  have  consented  to 
abandon  the  emotional  unity  of  the  picture.  It  was 
probably  a  concession  to  the  taste  of  the  Pope,  who 
wished  to  be  present  in  person  in  the  fashion  of  the 
fifteenth  century.  The  canons  of  art  might  insist 
that  every  person  in  the  picture  should  be  represented 
as  taking  part  in  the  action,  but  there  were  perpetual 
deviations  from  this  ride.  In  this  particular  instance 
the  Pope's  whim  was  so  far  salutary,  that  it  gave 
Raphael  the  advantage  of  a  peaceful  contrast  to  the 
general  excitement  of  his  story. 

1 1  do  not  support  the  view,  occasionally  put  forward,  that  the 
idea  is  borrowed  from  the  antique.    (Motive  of  a  river-god.) 


158      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Two  boys  may  be  seen  clambering  on  the  pillar 
towards  the  background.  What  are  they  there  for? 
It  may  be  supposed  that  so  conspicuous  a  motive  is  no 
mere  incident,  which  might  be  omitted  at  will.  They 
are  necessary  for  the  composition,  as  a  set  off  to  the 
fallen  Heliodorus.  The  scale  of  the  balance,  de- 
pressed on  the  one  side,  rises  on  the  other.  The 
"Down,  down!"  of  the  victor  is  effectively  accent- 
uated by  this  contrast.1 

The  treatment  of  the  clambering  boys  discharges 
another  function:  they  guide  the  eye  towards  the 
centre  of  the  picture,  where  we  finally  discover  the 
priest  praying.  He  is  kneeling  at  the  altar,  and  does 
not  know  that  his  prayer  has  already  been  heard. 
Imploring  helplessness  is  the  keynote  of  the  centre  of 
the  composition. 

THE  DELIVERANCE  OF  PETER 

Raphael  has  told  us  in  three  frescoes  how  Peter 
lay  in  prison  and  was  called  by  an  angel  at  night;  how, 
still  dreaming,  he  went  out  accompanied  by  the  angel, 
and  how  the  watch  was  roused  when  his  flight  was 
discovered.  The  pictures  seem  almost  to  have 
arranged  themselves,  on  the  scanty  surface  of  a  wall 
broken  by  a  window.  In  the  middle  we  have  the 
dungeon,  the  front  of  which  is  merely  a  grating 
affording  an  unimpeded  view.  Right  and  left  are 
steps,  which  lead  up  from  the  foreground  and  are  im- 

1  The  indication  of  a  similar  motive  in  Donatello's  relief, 
the  Miracle  of  the  Ass,  is  not  to  be  taken  as  an  indictment  against 
Raphael.    It  would  be  absurd  to  talk  of  borrowing  in  this  case. 


Raphael  159 


portant  as  giving  the  impression  of  depth  and  dis- 
tance to  the  picture.    The  master  thus  avoided  the 


The  Deliverance  of  St.  Peter,  by  Domenichino. 

disagreeable  effect  which  would  have  been  produced 
if  the  recess  of  the  dungeon  had  seemed  to  be  immedi- 
ately above  the  recess  of  the  window-niche. 

Peter  sits  asleep  on  the  floor,  his  hands  folded  over 


i6o       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


his  knees  as  in  prayer,  his  head  a  little  bowed.  The 
angel,  in  a  glory,  bends  down  to  him,  lays  a  hand  on 
his  shoulder  and  points  with  the  other.  Two  warders, 
encased  in  armour,  stand  on  either  side  leaning  against 
the  wall  overcome  with  sleep.  Could  the  scene' be 
more  simply  presented?  And  yet  <  it  required  a 
Raphael*  to  see  it  thus.  Never  since  has  the  story 
been  told  so  simply  and  so  impressively.  There  is  a 
picture  of  the  Deliverance  of  Peter  by  Domenichino, 
which  is  universally  known,  for  it  hangs  in  the  church 
where  the  holy  chains  are  preserved,  in  S.  Pietro  in 
Vincoli.  There  too  the  angel  is  bending  down  and 
grasping  Peter  by  the  shoulder.  The  old  man  awakes 
and  starts  back  in  terror  at  the  apparition.  Why  did 
Raphael  represent  him  sleeping?  Because  only  thus 
could  he  express  the  pious  resignation  of  the  prisoner, 
for  fear  is  an  emotion  common  to  the  good  and  the 
bad.  Domenichino  attempted  foreshortening,  and 
the  effect  is  disturbing.  Raphael  painted  a  simple 
full-length  figure  and  the  effect  is  reposeful  and  quiet. 
In  Domenichino's  picture  again  there  are  two  warders 
in  the  prison,  the  one  lying  on  the  floor,  the  other  lean- 
ing against  the  wall.  With  their  obtrusive  movement 
and  their  carefully  executed  heads,  they  claim  attention 
as  insistently  as  the  chief  figures.  What  delicate  dis- 
crimination Raphael  shows  here !  His  warders  blend 
into  the  wall,  the}r  are  merely  living  adjuncts  to  the 
walls,  and  we  do  not  require  to  notice  their  coarse 
features,  in  which  we  take  absolutely  no  interest.  It 
need  hardly  be  said  that  Raphael  avoids  all  detail 
in  the  drawing  of  the  prison-walls. 

In  the  Exit  from  the  Prison,  which  earlier  art  used 


Raphael  161 


to  represent  as  the  kernel  of  the  story,  Peter  was 
always  represented  in  the  act  of  talking  with  the 
angel.  Raphael  remembered  the  words  of  the  text: 
he  went  out  as  if  in  a  dream.  The  angel  leads  him 
by  the  hand,  but  he  does  not  see  the  angel,  he  does 
not  look  at  the  road;  staring  into  vacancy  with 
widely  opened  eyes,  he  walks  away  like  a  dreamer. 
The  impression  is  greatly  enhanced  by  the  way  in 
which  the  figure  emerges  from  the  darkness,  partly 
hidden  by  the  radiance  of  the  angel.  The  painter's 
instinct  speaks  here  in  Raphael,  who  had  already 
created  a  very  novel  effect  in  the  twilight  of  the  dun- 
geon. And  what  shall  we  say  of  the  angel?  He 
is  the  incomparable  type  of  a  swiftly-moving  guiding 
force. 

The  steps  above  and  below  are  occupied  by  sleeping 
soldiers.  The  sacred  narrative  mentions  that  the 
alarm  was  given.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  given 
in  the  morning.  Raphael  observes  the  unity  of  time, 
and  in  order  to  balance  the  light  to  the  right,  he  places 
a  crescent  moon  in  the  sky,  while  in  the  east  the  dawn 
begins  to  break.  Then  he  ventures  on  a  pictorial 
audacity:  the  flickering  light  of  a  single  torch  casts  a 
ruddy  reflection  on  the  stones  and  polished  armour. 

The  Deliverance  of  Peter  is  the  one  of  Raphael's 
works  best  calculated  to  win  for  him  the  admiration 
of  doubtful  adherents. 

THE  MASS  OF  BOLSENA 

The  Mass  of  Bolsena  is  a  legend  of  an  unbelieving 
priest,  in  whose  hands  the  wafer  began  to  bleed  at 
ii 


162       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  altar.  It  may  be  imagined  that  this  would  pro- 
duce a  highly  effective  picture:  the  priest  starting 
back  awe-struck,  the  spectators  overcome  by  the  sight 
of  the  miracle.  The  scene  has  been  painted  thus  by 
other  artists;  Raphael  does  not  adopt  this  method. 
The  priest,  who  is  kneeling  before  the  altar  and  is  seen 
in  profile,  does  not  start  up,  but,  motionless,  holds 
the  bleeding  wafer  in  his  hand.  A  struggle  is  going 
on  within  him  more  interesting  psychologically  than  a 
sudden  outburst  cf  ecstasy.  By  making  the  chief 
actor  motionless  Raphael  gains  the  opportunity  for 
a  marvellous  crescendo  in  the  effect  of  the  miracle  on 
the  crowd  of  believers.  The  choristers  who  are  the 
nearest  whisper  together,  and  sway  their  bodies.  The 
foremost  boy  involuntarily  bows  in  adoration.  On 
the  steps  men  are  pressing  and  pushing.  The  excite- 
ment reaches  its  climax  in  the  woman  in  the  fore- 
ground, who  has  leaped  up,  and  straining  forward  with 
look  and  gesture,  indeed  with  her  whole  figure,  might 
be  an  embodiment  of  belief.  Earlier  artists  have  re- 
presented Faith  in  such  an  attitude,  and  there  is  a 
relief  by  Civitali,  which  shows  a  marked  similarity 
in  the  upturned  head  and  the  half-hidden  profile 
(Florence,  Museo  Nazionale).  The  end  of  the  line 
is  formed  by  crouching  women  and  children  grouped 
before  the  steps,  the  indifferent  multitude,  ignorant  as 
yet  of  the  miracle. 

In  this  fresco  again  the  Pope  wished  to  appear  with 
his  retinue.  Raphael  reserved  one  half  of  the  picture 
for  him.  After  some  preliminary  hesitation,  he  actu- 
ally placed  him  on  a  level  with  the  principal  figure. 
Thus  the  two  are  kneeling  opposite  each  other,  profile 


Raphael  163 


to  profile;  the  astonished  young  priest,  and  the  old 
Pope  in  his  formal  attitude  of  prayer,  calm  and  un- 
moved as  the  ecclesiastical  principle.  Considerably 
more  to  the  background  is  a  group  of  Cardinals, 
excellent  portraits,  but  no  one  of  them  can  compare 
with  their  sovereign.  In  the  foreground  are  the  Swiss 
Guards  with  the  papal  litter.  They  too  are  kneeling, 
clearly  pronounced  types,  untouched  by  any  spiritual 
excitement.  The  reflex  action  of  the  miracle  ex- 
presses itself  merely  in  a  prosaic  eagerness  among 
some  of  them  to  find  out  what  is  happening. 

The  composition  is  therefore  based  on  a  great  con- 
trast of  motives,  suggested  by  the  nature  of  the 
mural  surface.  There  could  be  no  representation  of 
the  interior  of  a  church.  A  window  which  had  to  be 
taken  into  consideration  again  broke  the  wall.  Ra- 
phael constructed  a  terrace  with  steps  leading  down 
at  the  sides,  and  placed  the  altar  on  it  so  as  to  form 
the  centre  of  the  picture.  He  surrounded  the  terrace 
with  a  circular  parapet,  and  in  the  background  alone 
there  is  a  trace  of  ecclesiastical  architecture.  As 
the  window  is  not  in  the  middle  of  the  wall,  there  is 
an  inequality  between  the  two  divisions  of  the  fresco, 
which  Raphael  counteracted  by  raising  the  left  or 
narrower  side  somewhat  higher.  This  justifies  the 
introduction  of  the  men  who  appear  behind  the  priest 
on  the  parapet,  and  who  would  not  have  been  neces- 
sary for  the  mere  purpose  of  pointing  out,  and  so 
elucidating  the  phenomenon.1 

1  Raphael  assumes  that  the  spectator  stands  exactly  in  the 
middle  axis  opposite  the  picture ;  the  left-hand  side  of  the  window- 
frame,  therefore,  projects  a  little  into  the  pictured  space. 


1 64      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  last  picture  in  the  room,  the  Meeting  of  Leo  I. 
and  Attila,  is  a  disappointment.  It  is  of  course  ob- 
vious that  the  quiet  dignity  of  the  Pope  and  his  retinue 
is  designed  to  dominate  the  excited  hordes  of  the 
Hunnish  king,  although  the  papal  cortege  occupies  the 
inferior  position  as  regards  space,  but  this  effect  was  not 
attained.  It  cannot  be  said  that  the  apparition  of  the 
divine  helpers,  Peter  and  Paid,  who  threaten  Attila  from 
the  sky,  destroys  its  impressiveness.  The  contrast  in 
itself  is  not  well  worked  out.  It  is  difficult  to  find 
Attila  at  all.  Subordinate  figures  intrude  themselves 
perplexing!  y;  there  are  discords  in  the  lines  and  ob- 
scurities of  the  most  unfortunate  kind.  Raphael's 
authorship  of  this  work,  which  does  not  agree  with  the 
others  in  tone,  cannot  be  unreservedly  accepted.  It 
need  not  be  reckoned  with  in  our  demonstration.1 

In  the  same  way  we  cannot  follow  Raphael  into 
the  third  room,  and  examine  the  Burning  of  the  Borgo. 
The  chief  picture,  which  gives  its  name  to  the  room, 
contains  very  beautiful  individual  motives,  but  the 
good  is  mixed  with  the  indifferent,  and  the  whole 
lacks  the  compactness  of  an  original  composition. 

1  I  may  draw  attention  to  certain  obscurities  in  drawing  which 
are  incompatible  with  Raphael's  consummate  mastery: 

(a)  Attila's  horse.  The  hind-legs  are  indicated,  but  in  a 
ludicrously  fragmentary  manner,  as  far  as  the  hoofs. 

(b)  The  gesticulating  man,  between  the  black  horse  and  the 
white.    Only  a  piece  of  his  second  leg  appears. 

(c)  One  of  the  two  spearmen  in  the  foreground  is  very  de- 
fective in  form. 

The  ground  and  the  landscape  are  not  in  Raphael's  style.  A 
strange  hand,  talented  but  untrained,  shared  the  work.  The 
good  portions  are  to  the  left. 


Raphael  165 


The  woman  carrying  water,  the  man  extinguishing 
the  fire,  and  the  group  of  fugitives  will  be  readily 
accepted  as  inventions  of  Raphael's,  and  are  typical 
instances  of  his  creation  of  beautiful  individual  figures 
in  his  last  years.  But  the  further  development  of  his 
grand  narrative  manner  must  be  looked  for  in  the 
cartoons  for  the  tapestries  of  the  Sistine  Chapel. 

5. — The  Cartoons  for  the  Tapestries 

The  seven  cartoons  in  the  South  Kensington  Mu- 
seum, all  that  remain  of  a  series  of  ten,  have  been  called 
the  " Parthenon  Sculptures"  of  modern  art.  They 
certainly  surpass  the  great  Vatican  frescoes  both  as 
regards  fame  and  influence.  Lending  themselves 
well  to  reproduction  as  compositions,  containing  few 
figures,  they  have  been  widely  diffused  as  models,  by 
means  of  wood-cuts  and  engravings.  They  were  the 
treasury,  from  which  the  various  forms  of  expression 
of  human  emotions  were  obtained,  and  Raphael's  fame 
as  a  draughtsman  is  mainly  based  on  these  achieve- 
ments. The  West,  in  many  instances,  has  seemed  quite 
incapable  of  imagining  other  forms  of  gesture  to  express 
astonishment,  fear,  the  distortions  of  grief,  dignity,  and 
majesty  of  bearing.  The  number  of  expressive  heads 
and  of  eloquent  figures  in  these  compositions  is  aston- 
ishing. This  produces  the  loud,  almost  strident  effect 
of  some  of  the  pictures.  They  are  unequal  in  merit, 
and  not  one  contains  Raphael's  actual  handiwork.1 

1  Cf.  H.  Dollmayr,  Rafael's  WerksUitte  (Jahrbuch  der  Kunst- 
histor.  Sammlungen  des  Allerhochsten  Kaiserhauses,  1895).  "In 
the  essential  parts  only  one  hand  worked  on  the  cartoons,  that 
of  Penni"  (p.  253.) 


166      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


But  some  of  them  are  so  perfect  that  we  recognise 
the  immediate  presence  of  Raphael's  genius. 

The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.  Jesus  had 
gone  out  on  the  lake  with  Peter  and  his  brother.  At 
His  command  the  nets  had  been  once  more  let  down, 
after  the  fisherman  had  toiled  all  night  in  vain.  They 
then  made  so  stupendous  a  draught  that  a  second  boat 
was  called  up  to  help  haul  the  net  in.  Peter  is  struck 
by  the  evident  miracle — stupefactus  est,  the  Vulgate 
has  it — ;  he  throws  himself  down  at  the  Lord's  feet: 
" Depart  from  me,  O  Lord,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man." 
Christ  therefore  gently  calms  the  excited  man: 
"Fear  not." 

That  is  the  incident.  Two  boats  out  on  the  lake. 
The  net  has  been  hauled  in;  the  vessels  are  full  of 
fish,  and  in  the  midst  of  this  confusion  we  have  the 
scene  between  Peter  and  Christ. 

The  initial  difficulty  was  how  to  give  proper  em- 
phasis to  the  chief  figures  in  the  midst  of  so  many  men 
and  objects,  especially  since  Christ  could  hardly  be 
presented  otherwise  than  seated.  Raphael  made 
the  boats  small,  unnaturally  small,  in  order  to  insure 
the  prominence  of  the  figures.  Leonardo  had  thus 
reduced  the  size  of  the  table  in  the  Last  Supper.  The 
classical  style  sacrificed  reality  to  the  essential.  The 
shallow  boats  are  close  together,  and  are  parallel  to 
the  picture-plane,  the  second  being  slightly  over- 
lapped by  the  first.  All  the  mechanical  work  is 
assigned  to  the  second  and  farther  boat.  Here  two 
young  men  are  seen  drawing  up  the  nets — Raphael 
shows  the  draught  just  at  its  completion,  while  the 
oarsman  is  seated,  and  strains  every  muscle  to  keep 


Raphael  167 


the  boat  balanced.  These  figures,  however,  have  no 
independent  action  in  the  composition,  but  serve  only 
as  a  starting  point  or  introduction  to  the  group  in  the 
foremost  boat,  where  Peter  has  sunk  on  his  knees  be- 
fore Christ.  With  marvellous  skill,  the  occupants  of 
the  boats  are  all  brought  into  one  great  line,  which 
rises  by  the  rower,  mounts  over  the  bending  forms, 
finds  its  culminating  point  in  the  upright  figure,  then 
suddenly  sinks  and  finally  rises  once  more  in  the  figure 
of  Christ.  Everything  tends  towards  Him,  He  gives 
the  movement  its  object,  and,  although  insignificant 
in  mass  and  placed  quite  at  the  edge  of  the  picture, 
His  figure  dominates  all  the  others.  No  such  com- 
position had  ever  yet  been  seen. 

The  attitude  of  the  central  standing  figure  deter- 
mines the  impression  of  the  whole,-  and  it  is  noteworthy 
that  this  was  an  afterthought.  It  had  long  been 
part  of  the  scheme  that  there  should  be  an  upright 
figure  at  this  place  in  the  picture,  but  it  was  to  have 
been  merely  a  rower,  who,  save  that  he  was  required 
for  the  boat,  took  no  intimate  share  in  the  action. 
Ultimately  Raphael  felt  the  necessity  of  strengthen- 
ing the  emotional  effect.  He  associated  the  man — 
we  must  call  him  Andrew — in  Peter's  action  and  thus 
adds  a  singular  intensity  to  the  act  of  adoration.  The 
kneeling  down  is  to  some  degree  expressed  in  two 
actions.  The  plastic  artist  represents  a  gradual 
process  which  he  could  not  otherwise  depict  by 
simultaneous  pictures.  Raphael  frequently  made 
use  of  this  motive.  We  may  remind  the  reader 
of  the  horseman  with  his  companions  in  the 
Heliodorus. 


1 68       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  group  is  developed  with  the  utmost  rhythmic 
freedom,  yet  as  inevitably  as  an  architectural  com- 
position. Each  part,  down  to  the  smallest  detail, 
has  its  due  relation  to  the  rest.  Note  how  the  lines 
are  balanced,  and  how  each  section  of  the  surface 
seems  precisely  adapted  for  the  subject  which  fills 
it.  It  is  this  which  produces  the  restful  effect  of  the 
whole. 

The  lines  of  the  landscape  are  also  drawn  with  a 
definite  intention.  The  coast  line  exactl}<T  follows 
the  ascending  contour  of  the  group,  then  the  horizon 
becomes  open,  and  the  outline  of  a  hill  again  rises 
over  Christ.  The  landscape  emphasises  the  important 
caesura  in  the  composition.  The  earlier  represen- 
tations showed  trees,  hills,  and  dales,  the  more  the 
better,  it  was  thought.  Now  the  landscape  in  a 
picture  serves  the  same  purpose  as  the  architecture, 
that  of  helping  the  figures. 

Even  the  birds,  which  elsewhere  dart  aimlessly 
about  in  the  air,  aid  the  main  action.  Flying  for- 
ward from  the  background,  they  sink  precisely  where 
the  caesura  occurs,  and  even  the  wind  is  called  upon  to 
strengthen  the  general  effect. 

The  high  horizon  is  somewhat  singular.  Raphael 
clearly  wished  to  give  his  figures  on  the  surface  of  the 
water  a  quiet  uniform  background.  Here  he  applies 
what  he  had  learnt  from  Perugino,  whose  Delivery  of 
the  Keys  shows  a  similar  intention  in  the  buildings  he 
has  thrust  far  into  the  background.  The  foreground 
is  varied  and  full  of  movement,  in  contrast  with  the 
uniform  surface  of  the  lake.  A  strip  of  the  foreshore 
is  visible,  although  the  scene  is  supposed  to  take  place 


170      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


in  the  middle  of  the  lake. 1  Some  herons  stand  there, 
splendid  birds,  perhaps  too  conspicuous  when  the 
picture  is  known  only  by  reproductions  in  black  and 
white.  On  the  tapestry  their  brown  tones  blend  with 
the  water,  and  are  not  very  noticeable  by  the  side  of 
the  luminous  human  figures. 

Raphael's  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,  like  Leo- 
nardo's Last  Supper,  belongs  to  the  pictures  which 
henceforth  cannot  be  conceived  otherwise.  How 
inferior  is  Rubens  to  Raphael!  By  the  one  motive, 
the  starting  up  of  Christ,  he  has  robbed  the  scene  of 
its  nobility. 

"Feed  my  Lambs.'"  Raphael  here  deals  with  a 
theme  which  had  been  already  painted  by  Perugino 
in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  the  place  for  which  the  tapestry 
was  intended.  The  scene  as  rendered  by  Perugino  is 
only  the  Delivery  of  the  Keys;  here  the  stress  is  laid 
on  the  words  of  the  Lord:  "Feed  my  Lambs !" 
The  motive  is  the  same,  and  in  this  connection  it  is 
immaterial  whether  Peter  already  holds  the  key  in  his 
arms  or  not.2  In  order  to  indicate  the  charge,  an 
actual  flock  had  to  be  included  in  the  picture,  and 
Christ  emphasises  the  command  by  a  vigorous  two- 
fold gesture.  What  with  Perugino  was  merely  an 
emotional  attitude,  is  here  effective  action.  The  epi- 
sode is  treated  with  historic  gravity.    Peter,  kneel- 

1  Was  it  an  instinct  of  style  that  made  Raphael  require  some 
solid  object  in  the  foreground?  Botticelli,  too  (Birth  of  Venus), 
did  not  bring  the  water  up  to  the  edge  of  the  picture.  The 
Galatea  is  an  instance  to  the  contrary,  but  a  fresco  is  not  bound 
by  the  same  conditions. 

2  The  latter  was  at  any  rate  Raphael's  original  idea. 


I 


172       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ing  and  gazing  intently  upwards,  is  full  of  the  emotion 
proper  to  the  moment.  And  the  rest?  Perugino 
gives  us  a  series  of  beautiful  motives  with  his  standing 
figures  and  bowed  heads.  How  could  he  do  other- 
wise? The  disciples,  however,  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  incident.  It  is  unfortunate  that  they  were 
so  numerous,  for  the  scene  becomes  somewhat  mono- 
tonous. Raphael  introduces  a  new  and  unexpected 
effect.  They  stand  together  in  a  dense  mass,  from 
which  Peter  emerges  but  slightly.  But  what  a 
wealth  of  varied  expression  animates  this  crowd! 
The  nearest  disciples,  attracted  by  the  radiant  figure 
of  Jesus,  feast  their  eyes  on  Him,  ready  to  fall,  like 
Peter,  on  their  knees.  Then  there  is  a  hesitation, 
a  feeling  of  doubt,  a  casting  of  inquiring  glances,  and 
the  last  hold  back  in  pronounced  distrust.  It  is  the 
risen  Christ  who  has  appeared  to  the  disciples,  and  has 
spoken  to  them;  but  is  it  really  He  or  is  it  a  spirit? 
Raphael's  conception  of  the  theme  is. to  show  how  the 
feeling  of  conviction  gradually  steals  over  the  group, 
how  first  the  foremost  members  are  attracted,  while 
the  more  remote  ones  remain  unmoved.  This  con- 
ception requires  much  power  of  psychological  ex- 
pression, and  was  quite  beyond  the  capacities  of  the 
elder  generation.1 

Perugino  shows  Christ  in  the  middle  of  the  picture 
and  the  bystanders  symmetrically  distributed  on 
either  side,  but  in  Raphael's  cartoon  Christ  stands 
alone  facing  the  others.  He  does  not  turn  towards 
them,  but  is  passing  by  them.    The  disciples  only  see 

1  This  interpretation  follows  Grimm,  Leben  Raffaels. 


Raphael  173 


Him  from  one  side.  In  another  instant  He  will  be 
there  no  longer.  He  is  the  only  figure  which  reflects 
the  light  in  broad  surfaces.  The  others  have  the  light 
against  them. 

The  Healing  of  the  Lame  Man.  The  spectator 
looking  at  this  picture  always  begins  by  inquiring  the 
meaning  of  the  great  twisted  columns.  He  recalls 
the  halls  of  the  Quattrocento,  those  transparent 
structures,  and  cannot  comprehend  how  Raphael 
arrived  at  the  elephantine  forms  which  are  so  con- 
spicuous here.  The  source  of  the  motive  of  the 
twisted  column  can  be  traced.  There  was  one  such 
in  vSt.  Peters,  which,  according  to  tradition,  was 
brought  from  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  and  the 
" Beautiful  Gate"  of  that  very  temple  was  the  scene 
of  the  healing  of  the  lame  man.  The  conspicuous 
feature  here  is  not  so  much  the  peculiar  shape,  as  the 
combination  of  human  forms  with  architecture.  Ra- 
phael does  not  draw  the  pillars  as  stage-scenery  or  as 
a  background.  He  shows  the  people  in  the  portico, 
a  seething  throng,  and  he  gets  this  effect  with  com- 
paratively few  figures,  because  the  columns  them- 
selves fill  up  the  space. 

It  is  indeed  easy  to  see  that  the  pillars  were  very 
desirable  as  a  means  of  dividing  and  enframing  the 
subjects.  It  was  no  longer  sufficient  to  present  the 
people  standing  about,  arranged  in  rows,  as  the  Quat- 
trocentists  had  done.  Yet  if  a  real  crowd  were  painted, 
there  was  considerable  risk  that  the  chief  figures 
would  be  lost  in  it.  This  danger  has  been  obviated, 
and  the  spectator  notices  the  beneficial  effect  of  such 
an  arrangement  before  he  can  account  for  the  way  in 


174       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


which  it  is  done.  The  scene  of  the  healing  itself  is  a 
splendid  example  of  the  virile  and  powerful  manner 
in  which  Raphael  was  now  able  to  represent  such  an 
incident.  St.  Peter,  who  works  the  cure,  does  not 
strike  an  attitude;  he  is  not  the  exorcist,  who  utters 
a  magic  formula,  but  the  capable  physician,  who 
simply  grasps  the  hand  of  the  cripple,  and  with  his 
right  hand  makes  the  sign  of  benediction.  The  in- 
cident is  depicted  with  very  little  action.  The  Apostle 
stands  upright  and  only  slightly  bows  his  massive 
neck.  Earlier  artists  represented  him  bending  down 
to  the  sufferer,  but  the  miracle  of  raising  him  up  ap- 
pears less  marvellous  so;  St.  Peter  looks  steadfastly  at 
the  cripple,  who  gazes  at  him  wistfully  and  expect- 
antly. The  two  profiles  are  opposite  each  other,  and 
the  tension  of  the  two  figures  is  evident.  The  psy- 
chical illumination  of  the  scene  is  unparalleled. 

St.  Peter  has  a  companion  figure  in  St.  John,  who 
stands  by,  his  head  slightly  bent,  with  a  kindly  gesture 
of  encouragement.  The  cripple  has  his  antithesis 
in  a  colleague  who  looks  on  with  dull  envy.  The 
crowd  pressing  forward  in  doubt,  or  curiosity,  presents 
a  great  variety  of  expression,  and  contrast  is  afforded 
by  a  proportion  of  indifferent  passers-by.  Raphael 
has  introduced  into  this  scene  of  human  misery  a  con- 
trast of  another  kind;  two  naked  children,  ideal  forms, 
whose  luminous  flesh-tints  shine  out  from  the  picture. 

The  Death  of  Ananias  is  a  thankless  subject  for  a 
picture,  since  it  is  impossible  to  represent  death  as  the 
result  of  transgression.  The  painter  can  depict  the 
commotion,  the  awestruck  bystanders,  but  how  can 
the  moral  lesson  of  the  incident  be  enforced,  or  how 


176      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


can  it  be  shown  that  this  is  the  death  of  the  unright- 
eous? Raphael  has  done  his  best  to  express  this, 
at  least  superficially.  The  composition  of  the  picture 
is  very  austere.  On  a  podium  in  the  middle  stands  the 
entire  band  of  Apostles,  a  compact  and  impressive 
mass  against  a  dark  background.  On  the  left  the 
gifts  are  being  brought,  on  the  right  they  are  being 
distributed,  a  very  simple  and  perspicuous  motive. 
In  the  foreground  is  the  dramatic  incident.  Ananias 
lies  convulsed  on  the  ground.  Those  nearest  to  him 
start  back  in  horror.  The  circle  of  these  figures  in  the 
foreground  is  so  constructed  that  Ananias,  falling 
backwards,  makes  a  gap  in  the  composition  which  is 
visible  from  a  distance.  We  now  understand  why 
everything  else  is  so  severely  ordered.  The  object 
was  to  give  all  possible  emphasis  to  this  one  break  in 
the  symmetry.  The  judgment  has  fallen  like  a 
thunderbolt,  and  the  victim  lies  low.  Now  it  is  im- 
possible to  overlook  the  connection  of  this  with  the 
other  group  of  the  Apostles,  who  stand  for  destiny 
here.  The  eye  is  immediately  directed  towards  the 
centre,  where  Peter  stands  and  stretches  out  an  elo- 
quent arm  towards  the  prostrate  man.  There  is  no 
noisy  movement :  he  does  not  fulminate,  he  wishes  only 
to  say,  "God  hath  judged  thee."  Paul,  close  by, 
repeats  the  verdict  with  uplifted  hand,  gazing  at 
Sapphira,  who  is  entering.  The  Apostles  are  not 
unnerved  at  what  has  happened;  they  all  remain  calm; 
the  crowd  alone,  which  does  not  perceive  the  connec- 
tion of  events,  breaks  up  in  violent  alarm.  Raphael 
introduces  few  figures,  but  they  are  types  of  intense 
bewildered  fear,  which  have  been  repeated  countless 


Raphael  177 


times  by  the  art  of  succeeding  centuries.  They  have 
become  academical  models  of  expression.  Infinite 
harm  has  been  done  by  transplanting  this  Italian 
gesture-language  to  a  northern  soil.  But  even  the 
Italians  have  sometimes  completely  lost  the  feeling 
for  natural  expression  and  have  lapsed  into  arti- 
ficiality. As  foreigners  we  will  not  attempt  to  decide 
how  far  the  action  in  this  picture  is  natural.  But  we 
may  note  here  how  the  delineation  of  types  gives  way 
to  the  delineation  of  expression.  The  interest  in  the 
expression  of  passionate  emotions  was  so  strong  in  it- 
self that  individuality  of  feature  was  willingly  aban- 
doned in  its  favour. 

The  Blinding  of  Elymas,  Elymas  the  sorcerer  is 
suddenly  struck  blind,  when  he  attempts  to  withstand 
the  Apostle  Paul  in  the  presence  of  the  pro-consul  of 
Cyprus.  It  is  the  old  legend  of  the  Christian  saint 
conquering  his  adversary  in  the  presence  of  the  heathen 
ruler.  The  scheme  of  composition  which  Raphael  used 
is  thus  the  same  that  Giotto  knew,  when  he  painted 
St.  Francis  in  the  scene  before  the  Sultan  with  the 
Mohammedan  priests.  The  pro-consul  is  in  the 
centre  and  to  the  front,  right  and  left,  the  two  parties 
face  each  other,  as  with  Giotto,  only  the  incidents  of 
the  picture  are  more  vigorously  concentrated.  Ely- 
mas has  advanced  towards  the  middle  of  the  picture, 
and  suddenly  recoils,  as  it  grows  dark  before  his  eyes, 
stretching  out  both  hands  and  throwing  up  his  head — 
an  unsurpassable  picture  of  the  man  struck  blind. 
Paul  has  remained  calm ;  he  is  quite  on  the  edge  of  the 
picture,  his  back  partly  turned  to  the  spectator.  The 
face  is  in  shadow  (while  the  light  falls  full  on  Elymas) 
12 


178      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  appears  in  "lost  profile.' 9  He  gesticulates  with 
the  arm  which  is  stretched  out  towards  the  sorcerer. 
It  is  no  impassioned  gesture,  but  the  simplicity  of  the 
horizontal  line,  which  joins  the  great  vertical  line  of 
the  imposing  upright  figure,  has  a  very  striking  effect. 
He  is  the  rock  from  which  evil  must  recoil.  In  com- 
parison with  the  protagonists  in  the  scene,  the  other 
figures,  even  if  they  had  been  treated  with  less  in- 
difference, could  hardly  have  proved  interesting.  The 
pro-consul  Sergius,  who  is  only  a  spectator  in  the 
scene,  throws  back  his  arms,  a  characteristic  attitude 
of  the  Cinquecento.  He  may  have  been  thus  con- 
ceived in  the  original  sketch,  but  the  other  persons 
are  complementary  figures,  more  or  less  superfluous 
and  distracting,  which,  combined  with  slovenly  archi- 
tecture and  certain  cheap  picturesque  effects,  make 
the  picture  somewhat  restless.  Raphael  does  not 
seem  to  have  superintended  the  completion  of  this 
work. 

This  impression  is  conveyed  still  more  strongly  by 
the  Sacrifice  at  Lystra.  This  much-praised  picture 
is  a  complete  enigma.  Nobody  could  guess  that  a 
cripple  had  been  healed  there,  that  the  people  wished 
to  sacrifice  to  the  man  who  had  wrought  the  miracle 
as  to  a  god,  and  that  he— the  Apostle  Paul — was 
rending  his  garments  in  deprecation  of  the  act.  The 
chief  stress  is  laid  on  the  representation  of  an  antique 
sacrificial  scene,  imitated  from  a  relief  on  an  ancient 
sarcophagus,  and  everything  is  made  subservient  to 
the  archaeological  interest.  The  extensive  use  made 
of  this  model  is  in  itself  a  reason  for  rejecting  Raphael's 
authorship,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fact  that  every 


Raphael  179 


deviation  from  the  original  has  been  for  the  worse. 
The  composition  is  awkwardly  arranged  and  confused 
in  direction.  The  picture  of  St.  Paul  preaching  at 
Athens  is,  on  the  other  hand,  a  great  and  original 
creation.  The  preacher,  both  arms  uplifted,  dis- 
pensing alike  with  the  adjuncts  of  lofty  attitude  and 
flowing  draperies,  is  grandiose  in  his  earnestness. 
He  is  seen  only  from  one  side,  almost  from  behind. 
He  is  standing  on  a  height,  preaching  into  the  picture, 
and  has  stepped  forward,  to  the  very  edge  of  the 
steps.  This  gives  him  an  air  of  passionate  appeal,  in 
spite  of  his  calm.  His  features  are  in  shadow.  The 
whole  expression  is  concentrated  in  the  simple  and 
imposing  line  of  the  figure,  which  triumphantly 
dominates  the  picture.  All  the  preaching  saints  of 
the  fifteenth  century  are  mere  tinkling  cymbals  in 
comparison  with  this  orator. 

By  an  ideal  calculation  the  listeners  below  are  far 
smaller  figures.  It  was  a  task  entirely  congenial  to 
the  Raphael  of  that  day  to  represent  the  working  of 
the  speech  on  so  many  faces.  Some  figures  are 
worthy  of  him ;  in  others  it  is  difficult  to  resist  the  im- 
pression that  some  other  pencil  has  been  at  work 
(especially  in  the  coarse  heads  of  the  foreground). 

The  architecture  is  somewhat  obtrusive.  The 
background  to  the  figure  of  St.  Paul  is  good  in  its 
place,  but  one  would  gladly  see  the  circular  temple 
(of  Bramante)  replaced  by  some  other  building. 
The  Christian  orator  is  echoed,  in  a  diagonal  line, 
by  the  statue  of  Mars,  an  effective  method  of  en- 
forcing the  direction  of  the  composition. 

We  will  omit  the  compositions  which  no  longer 


i8o      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


exist  as  cartoons,  and  are  known  only  in  the  textile 
form,  but  we  must  make  a  general  observation  as  to 
the  relation  of  the  drawings  to  the  tapestry.  The 
process  of  working,  as  is  well  known,  reverses  the 
picture,  and  it  would  be  expected  that  the  models 
should  provide  for  this.  Strangely  enough,  the  car- 
toons are  not  uniform  in  this  respect.  The  Mirac- 
ulous Draught  of  Fishes,  the  Charge  to  Peter,  the 
Healing  of  the  Cripple,  and  the  Death  of  Ananias  are 
drawn  in  such  a  way  that  their  full  effect  is  reserved 
for  the  tapestry,  while  the  Sacrifice  at  Lystra  and  the 
Blinding  of  Ely  mas  lose  in  being  reversed.  (The 
Preaching  at  Athens  is  not  affected. x)  It  is  not  merely 
the  fact  that  the  left  hand  becomes  the  right  hand, 
and  that  a  blessing  given  with  the  left  hand  would  be 
incongruous:  a  composition  of  Raphael's  in  this  style 
cannot  be  reversed  at  will,  without  destroying  some 
elements  of  its  beauty.  Raphael,  according  to  the  style 
he  learned,  leads  the  eye  from  left  to  right.  Even  in 
the  compositions  which  show  no  movement,  such  as 
the  Disputa,  the  trend  is  in  this  direction.  In  the 
great  representations  of  action  no  other  arrangement 
will  be  found:  Heliodorus  had  to  be  thrust  into  the 
right-hand  corner,  to  add  cogency  to  the  movement. 
When  in  the  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  Raphael 
wishes  to  guide  us  past  the  curve  of  the  fishermen 
to  the  figure  of  Christ,  it  is  again  natural  for  him  to  go 
from  left  to  right:  but  where  he  wishes  to  emphasise 
the  sudden  prostration  of  Ananias,  he  makes  him  fall 
in  a  contrary  direction. 

1  It  seems  however  to  require  to  be  reversed,  since  it  is  only 
then  that  the  figure  of  Mars  holds  the  shield  and  spear  correctly. 


Raphael  181 


Our  reproductions,  which  have  been  made  from 
N.  Dorigny's  engravings,  give  the  right  view,  for  the 
engraver,  working  without  a  mirror,  unintentionally 
reversed  the  picture. 

6.   The  Roman  Portraits 

In  passing  from  the  historical  picture  to  the  portrait 
it  may  be  fitly  said  that  the  portrait  was  now  destined 
to  become  the  historical  picture.  Quattrocentist 
likenesses  have  a  something  naive  and  an  air  of  being 
studies  from  models.  They  present  the  person 
without  any  very  definite  expression.  The  sitters 
gaze  out  from  their  portraits  with  an  indifferent,  an 
almost  disconcerting  self-possession.  The  aim  of  the 
artist  was  a  striking  likeness,  not  any  special  emotion. 
Exceptions  occur,  but,  on  the  whole,  it  was  thought 
sufficient  to  perpetuate  the  sitter  in  his  habitual 
character,  and  the  impression  of  reality  did  not  seem 
to  suffer  when  conventionalities  of  attitude  were 
preserved. 

The  new  art  demands  that  portraits  should  show  a 
personally  characteristic  situation,  a  definite  moment 
of  individual  life.  The  painter  will  no  longer  trust 
to  the  forms  of  the  heads  to  speak  for  themselves,  the 
movement  and  gestures  must  now  be  full  of  expression. 
There  is  a  transition  from  the  descriptive  to  the 
dramatic  style. 

The  heads,  too,  show  a  new  vigour  of  expression. 
It  will  be  readily  seen  that  this  art  has  ampler  means 
of  characterisation  at  its  command.  The  treatment 
of  light  and  shade,  the  use  of  line,  the  distribution  of 


1 82       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


mass,  have  been  enlisted  in  its  service.  Everything 
is  intended  to  produce  a  definite  impression.  And 
in  order  to  accentuate  the  personality  further,  certain 
forms  are  now  brought  into  special  prominence,  while 
others  are  repressed,  whereas  Quattrocentists  gave  an 
almost  equal  value  to  each  part. 

We  cannot  yet  look  for  this  style  in  Raphael's 
Florentine  portraits.  It  was  only  in  Rome  that  he 
became  an  accomplished  portrait-painter.  The  youth- 
ful artist  hovered  round  the  model  like  a  butterfly, 
and  as  yet  he  failed  to  grasp  the  individuality  of  form, 
to  extract  its  characteristic  essence.  The  Maddalena 
Doni  is  a  superficial  portrait,  and  it  seems  to  me  im- 
possible to  ascribe  to  the  same  author  the  excellent 
female  portrait  of  the  Tribuna  (the  so-called  Donis 
Sister).  In  his  Florentine  period  Raphael  clearly 
did  not  possess  the  power  of  thus  assimilating  the 
object  before  his  eyes.1  His  development  presents 
this  curious  spectacle :  his  strength  of  characterisation 
increases  pari  passu  with  the  grandeur  of  his  style. 

The  portrait  of  Julius  II.  will  always  be  looked  upon 
as  his  first  great  essay  in  this  genre.  I  refer  to  the 
Uffizi  example,  for  that  in  the  Pitti  is  distinctly  later, 
even  allowing  it  to  be  original.  It  assuredly  deserves 
the  name  of  a  historical  picture.  The  Pope,  as  he  sits 
there,  his  mouth  firmly  closed,  his  head  somewhat 
bent  in  a  moment  of  reflection,  is  no  model  placed  in 
the  correct  position,  but  rather  a  fragment  of  history, 
the  Pope  in  a  typical  attitude.    The  eyes  no  longer 

1  The  attribution  to  Perugino  seems  to  me  irrefutable,  taking 
into  account  its  great  affinity  with  the  Timete  Deum  head  in  the 
Uffizi  (portrait  of  Francesco  dell'  Opere). 


Raphael  183 


gaze  at  the  spectator.  Their  cavities  are  in  shadow, 
but  on  the  other  hand  the  massive  forehead,  and  the 
powerful  nose,  the  chief  mediums  of  expression,  stand 
out  prominently  in  a  uniform  high  light.  These  are 
the  accentuations  of  the  new  style,  and  later  they 
would  have  been  still  more  pronounced.  One  would 
gladly  have  seen  this  very  head  treated  by  Sebastiano 
del  Piombo.  The  problem  was  different  in  the  Leo  X. 
(Pitti).  The  Pope  had  a  fat  heavy  face.  Here 
the  master  seeks  to  divert  attention  from  the  broad 
expanse  of  sallow  flesh,  by  the  play  of  light,  and  to 
bring  out  the  spirituality  of  the  head,  the  delicacy  of 
the  nostrils,  and  the  wit  of  the  sensuous,  eloquent 
mouth.  It  is  marvellous  how  the  dull,  short-sighted 
eye  has  gained  in  power,  without  changing  in  char- 
acter. The  Pope  is  represented  suddenly  looking 
up  from  the  study  of  an  illuminated  codex.  There 
is  something  in  his  look  which  characterises  the  ruler 
better  than  if  he  had  been  represented  on  his  throne, 
wearing  the  tiara.  The  hands  are  even  more  in- 
dividual than  those  of  Julius.  The  accompanying 
figures,  very  significantly  treated  in  themselves, 
only  serve  as  a  foil,  and  are  in  every  respect  subordi- 
nate to  the  chief  motive.1  Raphael  has  given  no 
inclination  to  any  of  the  three  heads  and  we  must 
admit  that  this  thrice-repeated  vertical  line  spreads  a 
sort  of  solemn  calm  throughout  the  picture.  The 
Julius  portrait  has  a  uniform  (green)  background, 
whereas  we  see  here  a  foreshortened  wall  with  pillars, 
which  possesses  the  double  advantage  of  heightening 

1  Is  it  by  an  artistic  licence  that  they  appear  so  low  down,  or 
are  we  to  assume  that  the  Pope  is  seated  on  a  podium? 


184      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  plastic  illusion,  and  of  giving  alternations  of  light 
and  dark  surfaces  as  foils  to  the  chief  tones.  The 
colour,  however,  has  been  toned  down  considerably 
and  tends  to  neutral  tints.  The  old  gaily  coloured 
background  is  abandoned,  and  all  emphasis  is  re- 
served for  the  colours  of  the  foreground.  Thus  the 
papal  crimson  makes  as  splendid  a  show  as  possible 
against  the  greenish  grey  background. 

Raphael  has  given  another  sort  of  momentary 
animation  to  a  squinting  scholar,  Inghirami.  (The 
original  formerly  at  Vol  terra  is  now  at  Boston,  an  old 
copy  in  the  Pitti  Gallery.)  Without  suppressing  or 
concealing  the  natural  defect,  he  was  able  to  neutralise 
it  by  the  intensity  of  the  serious  and  thoughtful  ex- 
pression. A  look  of  indifference  would  be  unendurable 
under  the  circumstances,  but  the  spectator's  attention 
is  diverted  from  the  disfigurement  to  the  expression  of 
intellectual  intensity  in  this  gifted  savant's  upturned 
face. 

The  Inghirami  is  one  of  the  earliest  Roman  por- 
traits. If  I  am  not  mistaken,  Raphael,  at  a  later  date, 
would  have  avoided  this  strong  accentuation  of  a 
momentary  action,  and  would  have  chosen  a  quieter 
motive  for  a  portrait  which  demands  long  and  re- 
peated inspection.  Perfect  art  can  give  all  the  charm 
of  momentariness  even  to  repose.  Thus  the  Count 
Castiglione  (Louvre)  is  very  simple  in  the  action,  but 
the  slight  inclination  of  the  head  and  the  folding  of  the 
hands  are  full  of  a  momentary  and  individual  attrac- 
tion. The  man  looks  out  of  the  picture  with  a  calm, 
soulful  gaze,  unmarked  by  any  obtrusive  sentiment. 
Here  Raphael  had  to  paint  the  noble  courtier,  the 


1 86       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


embodiment  of  the  type  of  the  perfect  cavalier  de- 
scribed by  Castiglione  himself  in  his  little  book, 
II  Cortigiano.  Modesty  is  the  keynote  of  his  char- 
acter. The  nobleman  here  adopts  no  aristocratic 
pose;  he  is  distinguished  by  an  unpretentious  and 
unobtrusive  tranquillity  of  bearing.  The  richness  of 
effect  of  the  picture  is  won  by  the  turn  of  the  figure — 
on  the  same  plan  as  the  Mona  Lisa — and  the  grandly 
arranged  costume.  How  imposing  is  the  develop- 
ment of  the  silhouette !  If  for  purpose  of  comparison 
we  take  a  somewhat  earlier  picture,  such  as  the  Por- 
trait of  a  Man  by  Perugino  in  the  Uffizi,  we  shall  dis- 
cover that  the  figure  bears  quite  a  novel  relation  to 
the  surface,  and  we  shall  feel  how  much  the  wide 
space,  and  the  large  quiet  planes  of  the  background 
enhance  the  imposing  appearance  of  the  sitter.  The 
hands  now  begin  to  disappear.  The  master  seems  to 
have  feared  that  they  would  divert  attention  from  the 
features  in  a  half-length  portrait.  If  they  were  in- 
tended to  play  a  conspicuous  part,  the  picture  was  made 
a  three-quarters  length.  The  background  here  is  a 
neutral  grey  full  of  shadows.  The  costume  is  also  grey 
and  black,  so  that  the  flesh-tints  remain  the  only 
warm  tones.  Masters  of  colour,  such  as  Andrea  del 
Sarto  and  Titian,  have,  like  Raphael,  introduced  the 
white  tones  of  the  shirt  in  a  similar  scheme  of  colour. 

Clarity  of  drawing  has  perhaps  reached  its  high- 
est perfection  in  the  Madrid  Portrait  of  a  Cardinal. 1 

1  The  title  of  the  picture  is  still  doubtful.  The  statement  in  the 
Cicerone  that  the  Cardinal  Bibbiena  in  the  Pitti  is  an  "inferior 
copy  "  of  the  Madrid  picture  is  incorrect.  The  two  pictures  have 
no  connection  whatever. 


Portrait  of  a  Cardinal,  by  Raphael. 


I87 


1 88       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  whole  effect  is  obtained  by  absolutely  simple 
lines,  and  has  the  grandeur  and  repose  of  architecture. 

The  portraits  of  the  two  Venetian  scholars,  Nava- 
gero  and  Beazzano  (in  the  Doria  Gallery)  cannot  be 
positively  assigned  to  Raphael's  own  brush,  but  they 
are  in  any  case  splendid  examples  of  the  new  style,  and 
instinct  with  life  and  character.  In  the  Navagero  we 
have  the  vigorous  vertical  line ;  the  head  is  abruptly 
turned  to  look  over  the  shoulder,  and  a  broad  light 
falls  on  the  muscular  neck.  The  power  of  the  bony 
framework  is  accentuated,  and  every  detail  adds  to 
the  expression  of  vigorous  activity.  Beazzano  is  the 
antithesis,  the  gentle  self-indulgent  nature,  with  the 
head  mildly  inclined  and  softly  illuminated. 

The  Violin-Player  (at  one  time  in  the  Palazzo 
Sciarra,  Rome,  now  in  the  Rothschild  collection, 
Paris)  was  formerly  attributed  to  Raphael,  but  is 
now  universally  considered  a  work  of  Sebastiano  del 
Piombo.  This  highly  attractive  head,  with  its  wist- 
ful look  and  determined  mouth,  eloquent  of  some 
intimate  tragedy,  is  noteworthy  as  a  product  of 
Cinquecentist  portraiture,  even  if  compared  with 
Raphael's  youthful  portrait  of  himself.  It  is  not  a 
mere  difference  in  the  models,  but  a  difference  in  grasp 
of  the  subject  that  is  evident.  There  is  new  restraint 
in  expression,  and  an  amazing  power  and  certainty  in 
the  effect.  Raphael  had  already  tried  the  experi- 
ment of  putting  the  head  to  one  side  of  the  canvas. 
Sebastiano  goes  still  farther  in  this  respect.  A  slight 
inclination,  almost  imperceptible,  is  shown.  The  ar- 
rangement of  the  light  is  very  simple,  one  side  being 
completely  in  shadow.    The  contours  are  very  strongly 


The  Violin-Player,  by  Sebastiano  del  Piombo. 
189 


190       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


marked.  Then  we  have  a  great  contrast  of  direc- 
tion, the  eyes  turned  to  look  over  the  shoulder. 
At  the  same  time  enough  of  the  right  arm  is  shown 
to  make  a  decisive  contrast  of  direction  to  the  upright 
line  of  the  head. 

Raphael  painted  few  female  portraits,  and  has  left 
the  curiosity  of  succeeding  ages  as  to  the  beauty  of  his 
Fornarina  unsatisfied.  Formerly,  liberal  loans  were 
made  from  Sebastiano's  ceuvre,  and  any  beautiful 
woman  by  him  was  attributed  to  Raphael  and  assumed 
to  be  his  mistress.  This  was  the  case  with  the  Vene- 
tian Maiden  in  the  Tribuna,  and  the  Dorothea  from 
Blenheim  (Berlin).  More  recent  criticism  has  been 
warier;  the  Donna  Velata  (in  the  Pitti),  universally 
accepted  as  the  work  of  Raphael,  has  been  declared 
not  only  to  have  been  the  model  for  the  Sistine  Ma- 
donna, but  also  to  be  the  idealised  portrait  of  the 
missing  Fornarina.  The  connection  in  the  first  case 
is  obvious;  in  the  second  it  has  at  least  an  old 
tradition  in  its  favour. 

The  Fornarina  "in  the  Tribuna,  dated  151 2,  is  a 
somewhat  expressionless  Venetian  beauty,  and  in  no 
way  to  be  compared  to  the  Berlin  Dorothea.  This 
later  production  possesses  all  the  aristocratic  calm, 
the  majestic  harmony,  and  the  spacious  movement 
of  the  High  Renaissance.1  We  involuntarily  think 
of  Andrea  del  Sarto's  beautiful  woman  in  the  Birth 

1  The  Berlin  catalogue,  on  the  contrary,  dates  the  Dorothea 
earlier  than  the  picture  in  the  Tribuna,  following  the  untenable 
arguments  of  Jul.  Meyer  (Jahrb.  d.  Preuss.  Kunstsammlungen , 
1886).  It  belongs  to  the  immediate  period  of  the  Violin-Player 
and  the  splendid  Martyrdom  of  St.  Agatha  in  the  Pitti  (1520), 


192       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


of  the  Virgin  of  1514.  In  contrast  to  these  voluptuous 
creations  of  Sebastiano's,  Raphael  in  his  Donna  Velata 
represents  majestic  womanhood.  Her  bearing  is 
erect  and  dignified:  the  costume  rich,  but  subdued  by 
the  solemn  simplicity  of  the  enframing  veil.  The 
eyes  are  not  searching,  but  firm  and  clear.  The 
flesh-tints  gain  great  warmth  from  the  neutral  ground, 
and  hold  their  own  triumphantly  against  the  white 
satin.  If  we  compare  this  with  an  earlier  female  por- 
trait, such  as  the  Maddalena  Doni}  the  great  grasp  of 
form,  and  the  unerring  certainty  in  the  realisation  of 
effects  characteristic  of  this  style,  will  be  obvious.  But 
the  very  foundation  of  this  is  a  conception  of  the  dig- 
nity of  the  human  form,  to  which  the  youthful  Raphael 
was  still  a  stranger. 

The  Donna  Velata  shows  such  a  surprising  similarity 
to  the  Dorothea  in  composition,  that  we  are  naturally 
led  to  think  the  two  pictures  may  have  been  painted  in 
some  sort  of  competition.  If  this  were  so,  it  might  be 
permissible  to  couple  with  these  the  Bella  formerly  in 
the  Sciarra  collection,  which  certainly  is  an  early 
Titian1  and  must  have  been  painted  about  the  same 
time.  It  would  be  a  remarkable  spectacle  to  see  the 
new-born  beauty  of  the  Cinquecento  displayed  in 
three  such  different  examples  side  by  side. 

However,  we  must  hasten  from  these  prototypes 
of  the  Sistine  Madonna  to  the  picture  itself.  The 
road  has  several  stages,  and  among  the  Roman  altar- 

1  It  is  'now  universally  ascribed  to  Palma,  but  the  correspond- 
ence with  the  so-called  Maitresse  de  Titien  in  the  Salon  Carre  of 
the  Louvre  is  so  evident,  that  it  would  be  advisable  to  return  to 
the  old  name. 


Raphael  193 


pieces  the  St.  Cecilia  has  the  first  claim  on  our  con- 
sideration. 

7. — Roman  Altar-Pictures 

St.  Cecilia  (Bologna  Gallery).  The  saint  is  re- 
presented in  the 
centre  with  four 
others,  St.  Paul 
and  Mary  Mag- 
dalen, a  bishop 
(Ambrose),  and 
St.  John  the 
Evangelist,  not 
as  a  privileged 
person,  not  as  a 
specially  distin- 
guished member 
of  the  group,  but 
as  a  sister  of  the 
rest.  They  are 
all  standing. 
She  has  let  her 
organ  fall,  and  La  Donna  Velata,  by  Raphael, 

is  listening  to 

the  song  of  the  angels  above  their  heads.  Umbrian 
harmonies  are  unmistakably  re-echoed  in  this  sympa- 
thetic figure.  And  yet,  when  we  make  a  comparison 
with  Perugino,  we  are  astonished  at  Raphael's  modera- 
tion. The  way  in  which  the  further  foot  is  planted 
and  the  head  bent  back  is  simpler  than  Perugino  would 
have  made  it.  There  is  no  longer  the  yearning  face  with 


194      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  parted  lips,  the  sentimentality  in  which  Raphael 
still  delighted,  even  when  he  painted  the  St.  Catherine 
of  the  London  National  Gallery.  The  mature  artist 
presents  less,  but  he  makes  the  little  he  does  present 
more  effective  by  contrasts.  He  calculates  on  pictorial 
effects  which  are  lasting.  Excessive  rapture  shown  in 
a  single  head  is  offensive.  The  picture  derives  its 
freshness  from  the  restrained  expression,  suggesting 
possible  intensification,  and  from  the  contrast  of 
divergent  figures.  St.  Paul  and  the  Magdalen  are 
conceived  in  this  way :  the  former  manly  and  collected, 
gazing  before  him,  the  latter  quite  unconcerned,  a 
neutral  foil.  The  two  others  stand  apart,  and  whisper 
one  to  the  other. 

It  is  an  injury  to  the  artist  to  take  the  chief  figure 
out  of  its  setting,  as  modern  engravers  have  done. 
The  sentiment  of  the  picture  requires  completion  as 
much  as  the  line  of  the  bent  head  calls  for  a  contrast. 
The  downcast  eyes  of  St.  Paul'  balance  the  upturned 
face  of  St.  Cecilia,  and  the  unconcerned  Magdalen 
forms  the  pure  vertical  line,  by  which  all  deviations 
from  the  perpendicular  may  be  measured. 

We  will  not  examine  further  the  subsequent  devel- 
opment of  contrasts  in  the  position  and  aspect  of  the 
figures.  Raphael  is  still  discreet;  a  later  artist  would 
certainly  not  have  grouped  five  standing  figures 
without  some  strong  contrast  of  movement.  The 
engraving  of  the  picture  by  Marc  Antonio  (B.  116) 
displays  interesting  variations  in  the  composition. 
If  the  design  is  assumed  to  be  Raphael's  own,  and  no 
other  conclusion  can  be  arrived  at,  it  must  be  an 
earlier  sketch,  for  the  arrangement  is  defective.  The 


Raphael  195 


very  features  which  make  the  picture  interesting  are 
lacking.  The  Magdalen,  full  of  emotion,  looks  up- 
ward, and  so  competes  with,  the  chief  figure,  and  the 
two  saints  standing  in  the  background  are  obtrusive. 
In  the  revision  of  the  picture  the  change  has  been 
made  which  is  the  criterion  of  progress,  i.  e.,  the  sub- 
stitution of  subordination  for  co-ordination.  There  is 
a  careful  choice  of  motives,  so  that  everything  occurs 
only  once,  but  each  motive  forms  an  integral  part  of 
the  composition. 1 

The  Madonna  of  Foligno  (in  the  Vatican  at  Rome) 
must  have  been  painted  at  nearly  the  same  date  as 
the  St.  Cecilia,  about  15 12.  We  have  in  it  the  theme 
of  the  Madonna  in  a  glory,  an  old  motive,  and  yet  to 
some  extent  new,  since  the  Quattrocentists  seldom 
adopted  it.  The  ingenuous  century  preferred  to  seat 
the  Madonna  on  a  substantial  throne  rather  than  to 
exalt  her  in  the  clouds,  while  a  change  of  sentiment 
in  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  tending 
to  the  avoidance  of  any  immediate  contact  between 
the  earthly  and  the  heavenly,  led  to  the  adoption  of 
this  ideal  scheme  for  an  altar-picture.  A  picture 
which  dates  from  the  close  of  the  Quattrocento, 
Ghirlandajo's  Madonna  in  Glory  at  Munich,  is  a  con- 
venient one  for  purposes  of  comparison. 

In  this  picture  also  there  are  four  men,  who  stand 
below  on  earth,  and  Ghirlandajo  already  felt  the 
necessity  of  distinguishing  between  the  attitudes. 

1  Ecclesiastical  prudery  seems  to  have  lengthened  the  dress  of 
St.  Cecilia  in  the  picture,  for  originally  her  ankles  seem  to  have 
been  visible. 


196      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Two  of  them  are  kneeling,  as  in  Raphael's  picture. 
But  Raphael  at  once  surpasses  his  predecessor  by  the 
variety  and  the  intensity  of  the  physical  and  emotional 
contrasts,  in  a  way  which  forbids  any  possibility  of 
comparison,  and  at  the  same  time  he  adds  another 
feature,  the  combination  of  contrasts.  The  figures 
are  intended  to  participate  equally  in  the  expression 
of  emotion,  whereas  earlier,  no  fault  was  found  with  an 
altar-piece  if  the  attendant  saints  stood  round  in 
stolid  indifference.  One  of  the  kneeling  figures  is 
the  donor,  an  unusually  ugly  man,  but  his  ugliness  is 
forgotten  in  the  imposing  dignity  of  the  treatment. 
He  is  praying,  while  his  patron,  St.  Jerome,  lays  his 
hand  on  his  head  and  presents  him  to  the  Madonna. 
His  formal  prayer  finds  a  splendid  antithesis  in  the 
figure  of  St.  Francis,  who  looks  fervently  upward, 
and  including  by  a  significant  gesture  of  one  hand  the 
whole  congregation  of  believers  in  his  intercession, 
shows  how  the  saints  pray.  His  gesture  is  taken  up 
and  vigorously  continued  by  the  St.  John  behind  him, 
who  is  pointing  to  the  Madonna. 

The  Madonna's  glory  is  picturesquely  dissolved, 
though  not  as  yet  completely;  the  old  formal  disc  of 
radiance  is  retained  in  part  as  a  background;  but  all 
around  clouds  are  floating,  and  the  cherubs  who  en- 
circle her,  to  whom  the  Quattrocento  conceded  at  most 
a  shred  or  strip  of  cloud  on  which  to  rest  a  foot,  now 
riot  in  their  element  like  fish  in  the  water. 

Raphael  introduces  an  exceedingly  beautiful  and 
fertile  motive  in  representing  the  Madonna  seated. 
We  have  already  said  that  he  did  not  create  this 
motive.    The   distinctive   character   of   the  lower 


Raphael  197 


limbs,  the  turn  of  the  body,  and  the  inclination  of  the 
head  may  be  traced  to  the  Madonna  in  Leonardo's 
Adoration  of  the  Kings.  The  Christ-Child  is  very 
affected  in  attitude,  but  it  was  a  charming  thought  to 
represent  Him  as  looking  down,  not  on  the  praying 
donor  as  His  mother  does,  but  on  the  "putto"  who 
stands  among  the  men  below  in  the  centre,  and  who, 
for  his  part,  is  looking  upwards. 

What  is  the  meaning  of  this  naked  boy  with  his 
tablet?  It  may  be  said  that  in  any  case  it  is  desirable 
that  a  type  of  childish  innocence  should  be  found 
among  all  these  severe  and  serious  male  types. 
Besides  this,  the  child  is  indispensable  as  a  formal 
connecting  link.  There  is  a  gap  in  the  picture  here. 
Ghirlandajo  did  not  concern  himself  about  this.  The 
Cinquecento  style,  however,  demanded  that  the  masses 
should  be  in  touch  one  with  the  other,  and  here  in  par- 
ticular some  horizontal  line  is  required.  Raphael  met 
this  want  by  the  introduction  of  a  boy-angel,  holding 
a  blank  tablet.    Here  we  see  the  idealism  of  great  Art. 

Raphael  makes  his  effects  with  larger  masses  than 
Ghirlandajo.  The  Madonna  has  been  brought  down 
so  low  that  her  foot  comes  to  the  level  of  the  shoulder 
of  the  standing  figures,  while  on  the  other  hand,  the 
lower  figures  come  quite  to  the  edge  of  the  picture. 
The  eye  is  not  intended  to  wander  away  behind  them 
into  the  landscape,  as  in  the  older  works,  an  arrange- 
ment which  produced  a  certain  looseness  and  slight- 
ness  of  effect.1 

1  The  landscape  has  already  been  recognised  by  Crowe  and 
Cavalcaselle  as  Ferrarese  in  construction  (Dosso  Dossi).  Per- 


198      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  Madonna  with  the  Fish  (in  the  Prado  at  Madrid) . 
In  the  Madonna  del  Pesce  we  have  Raphael's  Roman 
version  of  the  enthroned  Madonna.  A  Madonna 
was  required,  with  the  two  companion  figures  of  St. 
Jerome  and  the  Archangel  Raphael.  The  young 
Tobias  with  a  fish  in  his  hand  is  usually  added  as  a 
distinctive  attribute  of  the  latter.  Whereas  the  boy 
used  to  stand  quite  by  himself,  and  was  felt  to  be 
only  a  disturbing  feature,  he  becomes  in  Raphael's 
hands  the  centre  of  an  episode,  and  the  old  typical 
votive-picture  has  been  changed  into  a  "narrative." 
The  angel  introduces  Tobias  to  the  Virgin.  We 
need  not  look  for  any  special  allusion  in  this.  It  is 
the  natural  outcome  of  Raphael's  art  that  every 
character  in  his  picture  should  take  part  in  the  action. 
St.  Jerome  is  kneeling  on  the  other  side  of  the  throne, 
and  looks  up  for  a  moment  from  his  volume  to  the 
group  of  the  angels.  The  Infant  Christ  seems  first 
to  have  been  turned  towards  him,  but  now  He  looks 
towards  the  new  arrivals,  childishly  stretching  out  one 
hand  to  them,  while  His  other  hand  still  rests  on  the 
old  man's  book.  Mary,  a  very  dignified  and  noble 
figure,  looks  down  on  Tobias  without  bending  her 
head.  She  forms  an  absolutely  vertical  line  in  the 
composition.  The  timid  boy  approaching  the  group 
and  the  exquisitely  beautiful  angel,  a  figure  with  all 
the  Leonardesque  bloom  and  delicacy,   combine  to 

haps  the  famous  apparition  of  the  thunderbolt  in  the  back- 
ground is  only  one  of  the  well-known  Ferrarese  pyrotechnic  dis- 
plays, to  which  no  further  importance  should  be  attached.  The 
minutely-treated  tussocks  in  the  foreground  are  of  course  by  the 
auxiliary  hand. 


Raphael  199 


form  a  group  which  has  no  rival  in  the  world.  The 
upward  glance  of  the  pleading  angel  is  strengthened 
by  the  diagonal  of  the  •  green  curtain,  which  runs 
parallel  to  it.    This  curtain,  standing  out  sharply 


Madonna  with  two  kneeling  Saints,  by  Albcrtinelli. 


from  the  bright  sky,  constitutes  the  only  embellish- 
ment of  this  extremely  simple  composition.  The 
throne  shows  a  Peruginesquc  plainness  of  construc- 
tion. The  richness  of  the  picture  is  due  entirely 
to  the  correlation  of  all  movement,  and  the  close 
grouping  of  the  figures.  As  Frizzoni  lately  demon- 
strated, the  execution  is  not  original,  but  the  perfect 


200      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


coherence  of  the  composition  shows  clearly  that 
Raphael  superintended  the  work  to  the  end. 

The  Sistine  Madonna  (Dresden).  She  is  no  longer 
represented  seated  on  clouds  as  in  the  Madonna  di 
Foligno,  but  upright,  moving  over  the  clouds,  like  an 
apparition  which  is  only  visible  for  a  moment.  Ra- 
phael painted  this  Madonna  for  the  Carthusians  of 
Piacenza.  She  is  attended  by  St.  Barbara  and  Pope 
Sixtus  II.,  from  whom  the  picture  takes  its  name  of 
the  Sistine  Madonna.  The  merits  of  this  composition 
have  already  been  discussed  by  so  many  writers  that 
only  a  few  points  need  be  mentioned  here. 

The  effect  of  a  figure  apparently  emerging  from  the 
picture  and  advancing  upon  the  spectator  must  be 
to  some  extent  unpleasant.  Some  modern  pictures 
indeed  aim  at  this  coarse  effect.  Raphael,  on  the 
other  hand,  employed  every  method  of  restraining 
movement  and  keeping  it  within  bounds.  It  is  not 
hard  to  recognise  what  these  methods  were.  The 
motive  of  action  is  a  marvellously  light,  floating 
progression.  If  we  analyse  the  peculiar  conditions 
of  equilibrium  in  this  figure,  and  in  the  line  of  the 
inflated  mantle  and  floating  drapery,  the  marvel  will 
be  only  partially  explained.  It  is  an  important 
point  that  the  saints  on  either  side  are  not  kneeling 
on  the  clouds,  but  sinking  into  them,  and  that  the  feet 
of  the  Virgin  are  in  shadow,  the  light  shining  only  on 
the  billowy  clouds  on  which  she  stands.  The  floating 
movement  of  the  figure  is  greatly  reinforced  by  these 
details. 

The  whole  is  so  arranged  that  the  central  figure  has 
no  counterpart  but  a  number  of  favourable  contrasts. 


Raphael  201 


The  Madonna  alone  is  standing;  the  others  are  kneel- 
ing, and  on  a  lower  level.1  She  alone  confronts  the 
spectator  in  an  absolutely  vertical  line,  a  simple  mass, 
completely  silhouetted  against  a  bright  background. 
The  others  are  incorporated  with  the  wall;  their 
costumes  are  multi-partite,  and  they  are  fragmentary 
as  masses.  They  have  no  raison  d'etre  in  themselves. 
They  exist  only  in  reference  to  the  form  in  the  central 
axis,  for  which  the  utmost  clarity  and  power  are 
reserved.  This  sets  the  standard,  the  others  show 
the  deviations,  but  in  such  a  way  that  even  these 
appear  regulated  by  hidden  law.  The  scheme  of 
direction  is  clearly  as  follows:  the  upward  line  of 
the  Pope  had  to  be  counterbalanced  by  a  downward 
line  in  the  St.  Barbara,  the  pointing  outwards  in  the 
one  case  by  an  inward  movement  in  the  other.2  No- 
thing in  this  picture  is  left  to  chance.  The  Pope  looks 
up  at  the  Madonna,  St.  Barbara  down  at  the  children 
on  the  edge  of  the  picture,  and  thus  care  is  taken  that 
the  eye  of  the  spectator  is  at  once  led  into  certain 
channels. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  the  strange  effect  of  the  trace 
of  embarrassment  in  the  expression  of  the  Virgin,  who 
is  given  an  almost  architectonic  vigour  of  form.  The 
God  is  the  Child  in  her  arms:  her  function  is  only  to 
carry  Him.    He  is  borne  aloft,  not  because  He  could 

1  We  may  compare  with  this  Albertinelli's  arrangement  in  his 
picture  of  1506  in  the  Louvre,  which  is  in  every  respect  an  in- 
structive parallel  to  the  Sistine  Madonna.    (See  illustration.) 

2  The  two  female  saints  in  Fra  Bartolommeo's  picture  at 
Lucca  of  God  Almighty  (painted  1509)  represent  a  preliminary 
stage. 


202       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


not  walk,  but  because  He  is  a  prince.  His  body  is 
on  a  superhuman  scale,  and  the  way  in  which  He  lies 
has  something  heroic  in  it.  The  Child  is  not  giving  a 
benediction,  but  He  gazes  at  the  people  in  front  of 
Him  with  a  steady,  unchildlike  look.  He  fixes  them 
in  a  manner  unknown  among  mortal  children.  His 
hair  is  dishevelled,  like  that  of  a  prophet.  The  two 
putti  below  offer  the  contrast  of  normal  infant 
nature.1  The  picture  had  to  be  hung  high,  the  Ma- 
donna is  descending.  If  it  is  placed  too  low,  the 
finest  effect  is  lost.2  The  frame  which  has  been  given 
it  at  Dresden  is  perhaps  over-heavy :  the  figures  would 
look  more  imposing  without  the  large  pilasters. 3 

1  Has  it  been  noticed  that  the  larger  angel  has  only  one  w'.ng? 
Raphael  shrank  from  the  overlapping  a  second  would  have  en- 
tailed. He  did  not  wish  to  make  the  bottom  of  the  picture  too 
massive.    This  licence  agrees  with  others  of  the  classical  style. 

2  This  may  be  seen  from  the  copy  which  hangs  in  the  Leipzig 
Museum. 

a  The  Sistine  Madonna,  as  is  well  known,  has  been  reproduced 
in  many  excellent  engravings.  First  of  all  by  F.  Miiller  (1815) 
in  a  greatly  admired  masterpiece  of  engraving,  which  many  even 
now  consider  the  finest  of  all  the  reproductions.  The  expression 
of  the  heads  comes  very  close  to  the  original,  and  the  plate  is  dis- 
tinguished by  an  incomparably  beautiful  and  tender  brilliance. 
(There  is  a  copy  of  it  by  Nordheim.)  Then  Steinla  essayed  the 
task  (1848).  He  was  the  first  who  gave  the  top  of  the  picture 
correctly  (the  curtain-rod).  Notwithstanding  some  improve- 
ments in  detail  his  work  is  not  equal  to  that  of  F.  Miiller.  If  any 
engraving  can  be  compared  to  this,  it  is  that  of  J.  Keller  (187 1). 
Very  discreet  in  the  means  he  employed,  he  yet  succeeded  in  re- 
producing the  shimmer  of  the  apparition  in  a  wonderful  manner. 
Later  critics  discovered  that  he  had  lost  too  much  of  the  definite 
modelling  of  the  original  in  the  process,  and  Mandel  accordingly 
set  to  work  making  extraordinary  efforts  to  realise  the  expressive 


Raphael  203 


The  Transfiguration  (Vatican).  The  picture  of  the 
Transfiguration  shows  a  double  scene:  the  trans- 
figuration above,  and  the  incident  of  the  demoniac 
boy  below.  This  combination  is  certainly  excep- 
tional. It  was  only  once  treated  by  Raphael.  In  it 
he  has  given  us  his  last  word  as  to  the  representation 
of  historical  events.  The  Transfiguration  has  always 
been  a  difficult  subject.  Three  men  standing  up- 
right close  together,  and  three  others  semi-recumbent 
at  their  feet.  A  picture  as  sincere  as  that  of  Bellini 
in  the  Museum  at  Naples,  with  all  its  charm  of  colour 
and  detail,  cannot  disguise  from  us  the  difficulty 
experienced  by  the  artist  himself,  when  he  was  com- 
pelled to  lay  before  the  feet  of  the  glistening  trans- 
figured Lord  and  His  companions  the  three  prostrate 
figures  of  the  dazzled  disciples.  But  there  was  an 
earlier,  more  ideal  scheme,  according  to  which  Christ 
did  not  stand  on  the  ground,  but  was  represented 
in  a  nimbus  raised  above  the  earth.  Perugino  had 
painted  the  scene  thus  in  the  Cambio  at  Perugia.  By 
this  device  the  picture  certainly  gained  much  in  form, 
but  with  Raphael  there  can  have  been  from  the  first 
no  question  as  to  which  type  he  should  choose.  His 
heightened  perception  felt  the  need  of  the  miracu- 
lous.    He  found  the  gesture  of  the  outspread  arms 

drawing  of  Raphael.  He  extracted  an  unexpected  wealth  of  form 
from  the  picture,  but  the  charm  of  the  whole  has  suffered,  and  in 
places  his  very  conscientiousness  has  resulted  in  absolute  ugliness. 
Instead  of  the  luminous  vapour  he  gives  us  a  blurred  raincloud. 
Kohlschein  lately  made  another  departure.  He  exaggerated  the 
lights  and  changed  the  shimmer  into  a  flare,  wilfully  abandoning 
the  effect  aimed  at  by  Raphael. 


204      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


already  existing,  but  the  floating  and  the  ex- 
pression of  rapture  could  not  have  been  derived 
from  any  source.  Attracted  by  the  action  of 
flight,  Moses  and  Elijah  follow  the  Christ,  turning 
towards  Him  and  dependent  on  Him.  He  is  the 
source  of  their  strength  and  the  centre  of  the  light. 
The  others  only  approach  the  borders  of  the  radiance 
which  surrounds  the  Saviour.  The  disciples  be- 
neath complete  the  circle.  Raphael  drew  them  on  a 
much  smaller  scale,  so  as  to  connect  them  closely  with 
the  ground.  They  are  no  longer  separate  independent 
personalities,  which  distract  the  attention.  They 
seem  essential  components  of  the  circle  which  the 
transfigured  Lord  has  drawn  round  Him,  and  it  is 
by  contrast  with  these  circumscribed  forms  that  the 
floating  figure  gains  the  full  effect  of  freedom  and 
emancipation.  If  Raphael  had  bequeathed  nothing 
to  the  world  but  this  group,  it  would  be  a  complete 
monument  of  art  as  he  conceived  it. 1 

But  he  did  not  wish  to  end  there.  He  wanted  a 
strong  contrast,  and  this  he  found  in  the  episode  of 
the  demoniac  boy.  It  is  the  logical  development  of 
those  principles  of  composition  which  he  had  adopted 
in  the  Heliodorus  Stanza.    Above,  peace,  solemnity, 

1  The  feeling  for  proportion  and  arrangement  was  soon  com- 
pletely dulled  in  the  Bolognese  Academicians,  who  essayed  to  con- 
tinue the  traditions  of  the  classical  period.  Christ,  haranguing 
the  disciples  from  the  clouds,  squeezed  in  between  the  sprawling 
seated  figures  of  Moses  and  Elijah,  and  the  herculean  disciples, 
beneath,  vulgarly  exaggerated  in  gesture  and  attitude — this  is 
Ludovico  Carracci's  picture  in  the  Bologna  Gallery.  (See  illus- 
tration.) 


2o6       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  celestial  rapture;  beneath,  noisy  crowds,  and 
earthly  lamentation. 

The  Apostles  stand  there,  closely  packed  together. 
There  are  confused  groups  and  strident  outlines.  The 
chief  motive  is  a  diagonal  path,  over. which  the  crowd 
has  spread.  The  figures  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
picture  are  on  a  larger  scale  than  those  in  the  upper, 
but  there  is  no  danger  of  their  outweighing  the 
Transfiguration  scene.  The  clear  geometrical  dis- 
position triumphs  over  all  the  tumult  of  the  multi- 
tude. Raphael  was  not  able  to  finish  this  picture. 
Many  details  of  form  are  repellent,  and  the  whole 
is  unattractive  in  colour.  But  the  great  contrast  in 
arrangement  must  have  been  his  original  thought. 

Titian's  Assumption  was  produced  in  Venice  at 
about  the  same  time  (151 8).  The  object  here  is 
different,  but  in  principle  the  two  pictures  are  akin. 
The  Apostles  beneath  form  of  themselves  a  close  wall, 
a  sort  of  plinth,  in  which  the  individual  counts  for 
nothing.  The  Virgin  stands  above  them,  in  a  great 
circle,  the  upper  circumference  of  which  coincides  with 
the  semicircular  frame  of  the  picture.  It  may  be 
asked  why  Raphael  did  not  also  choose  this  semi- 
circular form  for  the  completion  of  his  picture.  Per- 
haps he  was  afraid  of  exaggerating  the  ascending 
movement  of  the  Christ. 

The  pupils  who  finished  the  Transfiguration  worked 
their  will  in  other  places  also  under  the  name  of  their 
master.  It  is  only  in  very  recent  times  that  any 
attempt  has  been  made  to  free  Raphael  from  this 
partnership.  The  products  of  Raphael's  atelier, 
harsh  in  colour,  mean  in  conception,  false  in  gesture, 


208      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  above  all,  devoid  of  proportion,  are,  for  the  most 
part,  strangely  unpleasant  productions. 

We  can  understand  the  anger  of  Sebastiano  when 

he  found  his 
road  blocked  by- 
such  people  in 
Rome.  Sebas- 
tiano was  all  his 
life  a  spiteful  ri- 
val of  Raphael, 
but  his  talent 
entitled  him  to 
aspire  to  the 
highest  tasks. 
He  never  com- 
pletely freed 
himself  from  a 
certain  Vene- 
tian awkward- 
ness. In  the 
middle  of  monu- 
mental Rome  he 
still  adhered  to 
the  scheme  of 
the  half-length 
picture,  and  he 
may  be  said 
never  to  have 
attained  a  thorough  mastery  over  the  drawing  of 
the  human  body.  He  was  deficient  also  in  the 
finer  feeling  for  space,  he  was  easily  bewildered,  and 
as  a  consequence  he  appears  cramped  and  confused 


The  Transfiguration,  by  L.  Carracci. 


Raphael  209 


at  times.  But  he  had  truly  great  powers  of  concep- 
tion. As  a  painter  of  portraits  he  stood  in  the  very 
first  rank,  and  in  historical  pictures  he  achieved  now 
and  again  powerful  effects,  only  comparable  to  those 
of  Michelangelo.  We  do  not  indeed  know  how  much 
he  was  indebted  to  the  latter.  His  Flagellation  in 
S.  Pietro  in  Montorio  at  Rome  and  the  Pieta  in  Viterbo 
are  among  the  most  magnificent  creations  of  the  golden 
age.  The  Raising  of  Lazarus,  painted  in  competition 
with  Raphael's  Transfiguration,  hardly  deserves  to  be 
ranked  so  highly.  Sebastiano  excelled  in  the  represen- 
tation of  a  few  figures  rather  than  in  depicting  a  crowd, 
and  the  half-length  may  be  considered,  generally,  the 
domain  in  which  he  felt  himself  most  secure.  His 
very  distinguished  style  finds  its  best  expression  in 
the  Visitation  in  the  Louvre.  The  Visitation  of  the 
school  of  Raphael  in  the  Prado,  in  spite  of  its  large 
figures,  looks  commonplace  by  comparison.1  Even 
the  Christ  Bearing  His^  Cross  in  Madrid  (replica  in 
Dresden)  may  be  considered  superior  in  the  expression 
of  its  chief  figure  to  the  suffering  Christ  of  Raphael's 
Spasimo  (Prado).2 

If  any  painter  may  be  named  as  a  third  with  the 

1  It  is  impossible  that  this  very  poor  composition  was  designed 
by  Raphael  (Cf.  Dollmayr,  p.  344:  by  Penni). 

2  This  celebrated  picture  was  not  only  executed  by  other  hands, 
but  must  also  have  been  copiously  "edited' '  in  composition.  The 
chief  motive  of  Christ  looking  round  over  His  shoulder  is  striking, 
and  is  undoubtedly  genuine,  as  is  also  the  development  of  the 
procession  as  a  whole.  But,  together  with  this,  there  are  lament- 
able obscurities  and  motives  borrowed  from  other  works  by  Ra- 
phael, so  that  any  idea  of  the  personal  share  of  the  master  in  the 
composition  is  precluded. 

14 


2io      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


two  great  masters  in  Rome,  it  is  Sebastiano.  He  gives 
us  the  impression  of  a  personality  destined  for  the 
highest  achievements,  who  had  never  completely 
developed;  who  never  produced  what  he  might  have 
done  with  his  talents.  He  lacked  the  sacred  enthus- 
iasm for  work.  In  this  he  was  the  antithesis  to  Ra- 
phael, whose  diligence  Michelangelo  praised  as  his 
essential  characteristic.  What  he  meant  by  this  was 
obviously  Raphael's  capacity  for  gaining  fresh  strength 
from  every  fresh  task. 


Vintage.    From  the  engraving  by 
Marc  Antonio. 


V 


FRA  BARTOLOMMEO 
1475-1517 

In  Fra  Bartolommeo  the  High  Renaissance  has  its 
type  of  the  monastic  painter. 

The  great  experience  of  his  youth  had  been  the 
preaching  of  Savonarola  and  the  spectacle  of  his 
death.  After  that  he  retired  to  a  monastery  and 
renounced  painting  for  a  time.  This  must  have  been 
a  painful  resolution,  for  in  him,  more  than  in  most 
painters,  we  divine  the  need  of  pictorial  expression. 
He  had  not  much  to  say,  but  the  thought  that  in- 
spired him  was  a  noble  thought.  The  pupil  of  Sa- 
vonarola cherished  an  ideal  of  a  potent  simplicity,  by 
force  of  which  he  would  annihilate  the  worldly  van- 
ity and  the  petty  conceits  of  the  Florentine  church- 
pictures.  He  was  no  fanatic,  no  soured  ascetic. 
His  songs  are  joyous  lays  of  triumph.  He  must  be 
seen  in  his  votive  pictures,  where  the  saints  stand 
in  serried  masses  round  the  enthroned  Madonna.  In 
these  his  utterance  is  clear  and  pathetic.  Ponderous 
masses,  co-ordinated  by  strict  rule,  imposing  con- 
trasts of  direction,  and  a  splendid  energy  of  combined 
movement  are  his  characteristics.  His  is  the  style 
which  dwells  in  the  resounding  vaults  of  the  High 
Renaissance. 


211 


2i2       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Nature  endowed  him  with  a  feeling  for  the  grandiose, 
for  majestic  bearing,  stately  draperies,  and  magnifi- 
cently undulating  line.  Can  anything  be  compared 
to  his  St.  Sebastian  for  buoyant  beauty,  or  where  can 
the  gesture  of  his  Risen  Saviour  be  equalled  in  Flor- 
ence? A  robust  sensuality  preserved  him  from  mere 
hollow  pathos.  His  Evangelists  are  full-necked  and 
athletic.  Those  who  stand  are  absolutely  firm  on 
their  feet,  and  those  who  are  holding  anything  have 
an  iron  grip.  He  makes  the  gigantic  his  normal  scale, 
and  anxious  to  give  his  pictures  the  most  powerful 
plastic  effect,  he  so  intensifies  the  darkness  of  his 
shadows  and  backgrounds,  that  many  of  his  pictures, 
owing  to  the  inevitable  deepening  in  tone,  no  longer 
give  us  any  pleasure.  He  felt  but  a  qualified  interest 
in  the  accurate  presentment  of  the  individual.  He 
aimed  at  general  effects,  not  particular  types.  He 
treated  the  nude  superficially,  because  he  calculated 
on  the  impression  produced  by  the  motive  of  move- 
ment and  line  as  a  whole.  His  characters  are  always 
significant  from  the  sincerity  with  which  they  are 
conceived,  but  even  here  he  hardly  goes  beyond  general 
traits.  We  accept  his  generalisations  because  we  are 
carried  away  by  the  gestures  of  his  figures,  and  feel 
his  personality  in  the  rhythm  of  the  composition. 
Very  occasionally  he  went  beyond  his  depth,  as  in  the 
heroic  seated  figures  of  prophets.  The  influence  of 
Michelangelo  bewildered  him  for  a  moment.  In 
attempting  to  compete  with  the  movement  of  this 
giant  he  became  empty  and  insincere.  It  is  obvious 
that,  among  the  older  painters,  Perugino  with  his 
simplicity  must  have  been  the  one  who  most  strongly 


Fra  Bartolommeo  213 


appealed  to  him.  He  found  in  him  what  he  himself 
was  seeking,  disregard  of  amusing  detail,  quiet  spaces, 
and  concentrated  expression.  He  follows  him  even  in 
beauty  of  movement,  adding  to  this,  however,  his  in- 
dividual feeling  for  strength,  mass,  and  compact 
outline.  Compared  with  him,  Perugino  at  once  seems 
petty  and  affected. 

How  much  of  his  broad  pictorial  style  can  be  traced 
to  Leonardo,  and  how  far  the  latter  was  responsible 
for  his  bold  treatment  of  light  and  shade,  and  his  rich 
gradations,  are  questions  for  a  monograph.  Such 
discussion  would  further  have  to  take  into  account 
the  impression  produced  by  Venice,  which  the  Frate 
visited  in  the  year  1508.  He  saw  there  a  style  adapted 
to  large  surfaces  in  its  highest  development,  and  found 
in  Bellini  a  perception  and  a  feeling  for  the  beautiful 
which  must  have  affected  him  like  a  revelation.  We 
shall  return  to  this  point  presently. 

It  is  not  easy  to  predict  the  future  development  of 
Bartolommeo  from  his  fresco  of  the  Last  Judgment 
(in  the  Hospital  of  Sta.  Maria  Nuova,  Florence), 
a  work  of  the  expiring  Quattrocento.  The  upper 
group,  the  only  part  of  the  picture  he  himself  executed, 
suffers  especially  from  want  of  cohesion.  The  chief 
figure,  the  Saviour,  is  too  small,  and  among  the  rows  of 
seated  saints,  which  converge  towards  the  background, 
the  cramped  arrangement  and  the  close  juxtaposition 
of  the  heads  has  a  dry  and  antiquated  effect.  If  it 
has  been  justly  said  that  the  composition  was  the 
stimulating  influence  in  Raphael's  Disputa,  a  com- 
parison of  the  two  works  also  shows  very  clearly  the 


2i4       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


real  achievement  of  Raphael,  and  the;  difficulties 
he  surmounted.  The  inorganic  arrangement  of  the 
whole  and  the  removal  of  the  principal  figure  into 
the  background  are  defects  found  in  the  preliminary 
sketches  for  the  Disputa,  and  finally  overcome.  Ra- 
phael, on  the  other  hand,  from  the  first  found  no 
difficulty  in  the  clear  development  of  the  seated  saints. 
He  shared  Perugino's  taste  for  perspicuity  and  spa- 
cious grouping,  whereas  all  the  Florentines  expected 
the  spectator  to  pick  out  particular  heads  from  densely 
packed  rows. 

Very  different  is  the  appeal  made  to  the  spectator 
by  the  Virgin  Appearing  to  St.  Bernard  (1506,  Flor- 
ence, Accademia),  the  first  picture  painted  by  Bar- 
tolommeo  as  a  monk.  It  is  not  a  pleasing  work,  and 
its  condition  leaves  much  to  be  desired,  but  it  is  a 
picture  which  produces  an  impression.  The  appari- 
tion is  represented  in  an  unexpected  manner.  It  is 
no  longer  Filippino's  delicate,  timid  woman  who 
advances  to  the  desk  of  the  holy  man  and  lays  her 
hand  on  the  book.  It  is  a  supernatural  apparition, 
which  floats  down  in  the  majestic  waves  of  a  cloak, 
escorted  by  a  choir  of  angels,  in  crowded  masses, 
all  filled  with  reverence  and  adoration.  Filippino 
had  painted  girls,  half-shy,  half-curious,  who  accom- 
pany the  Virgin  on  her  visit.  Bartolommeo  does  not 
wish  to  raise  a  smile,  but  to  stir  devotion.  Unfor- 
tunately his  angels  are  so  ugly  that  the  devout  feeling 
is  slightly  chilled.  The  saint  receives  the  miracle  with 
pious  astonishment,  and  this  impression  is  so  beauti- 
fully rendered  that  in  comparison  Filippino  seems 
ordinary,  and  even  Perugino,  in  his  picture  at  Munich, 


Fra  Bartolommeo  215 


mediocre.  The  heavy,  trailing  white  robe  has  a  novel 
grandeur  of  line. 

The  accompanying  details  of  landscape  and  archi- 
tecture still  show  the  uncertain  touch  of  the  young 
artist.  The  space  is  on  the  whole  cramped,  so  that 
the  apparition  has  a  somewhat  overwhelming  effect. 
Three  years  later  the  inspiration  which  gave  rise  to 
the  St.  Bernard  flamed  out  once  more  in  the  picture  of 
God  the  Father  with  two  kneeling  female  saints  (1509, 
Academy  at  Lucca),  where  the  worshipping  Catherine 
of  vSiena  repeats  the  motive  in  a  larger  and  more 
emotional  form.  The  turn  of  the  head  with  its 
"lost  profile,  "  and  the  forward  inclination  of  the  body 
strengthen  the  impression,  just  as  the  movement  of  the 
dark  habit  blown  out  by  the  wind  is  a  very  effective 
translation  of  mental  excitement  into  agitated  external 
form. 

The  other  saint,  the  Magdalen,  is  motionless.  She 
holds  out  the  box  of  ointment  with  hieratic  solemnity, 
and  raises  an  end  of  her  mantle  high  before  her  breast, 
while  her  lowered  eyes  rest  on  the  congregation.  We 
have  here  a  contrast  of  arrangement  of  the  kind  Ra- 
phael afterwards  repeated  in  the  Sistine  Madonna. 
Both  figures  are  kneeling,  not  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth,  but  on  clouds.  In  addition  to  this  Barto- 
lommeo gives  an  architectonic  framework  with  two 
pillars.  The  eye  is  carried  into  the  distance  of  the 
background  over  a  flat  quiet  landscape.  The  faint 
line  of  the  horizon  and  the  great  expanse  of  atmo- 
sphere produce  a  marvellously  solemn  effect.  Similar 
intentions  are  noticeable  in  Perugino's  works,  as  the 
reader  may  remember,  but  it  is  rather  impressions  of 


216       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Venice  that  are  re-echoed  here.  In  contrast  to  the 
palpitating  abundance  of  Florentine  motives  this 
picture  speaks  significantly  of  new  ideals.  Where 
Bartolommeo  takes  in  hand  the  ordinary  picture 
of  the  Virgin  with  Saints,  as,  for  example,  the  mar- 
vellously painted  picture  of  1508  in  the  Cathedral  of 
Lucca,1  his  chief  concern  is  once  more  a  simplification 
of  effects,  quite  in  the  manner  of  Perugino:  plain 
draperies,  quiet  backgrounds,  and  a  mere  cube  as  a 
throne.  He  surpasses  Perugino  in  his  more  vigorous 
movement,  his  lustier  figures,  and  more  compact 
design.  His  line  is  rounded  and  undulating,  averse 
to  all  harsh  intersections.  How  admirably  the 
silhouettes  of  Mary  and  Stephen  are  harmonised!2 
The  uniform  filling  up  of  the  surface  has  an  antiquated 
effect,  but  with  a  new  feeling  for  mass,  the  standing 
figures  are  brought  close  to  the  edge  of  the  picture, 
which  is  enframed  by  two  lateral  pillars,  whereas  the 
earlier  artists  always  allowed  a  glimpse  of  space  be- 
tween the  pillars  and  the  margin. 

Henceforward  Bartolommeo  strikes  chords  ever 
fuller  and  richer  in  his  altar-pieces,  creating  rhythms 
more  and  more  spirited  and  sweeping  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  his  figures.  He  understood  how  to  subor- 
dinate his  crowds  to  a  grand  leading  motive,  and 
to  oppose  contrasting  groups  of  dark  and  liquid  tones. 
With  all  this  wealth  of  effect  his  pictures  are  full  of 

1  He  gives  a  memento  of  his  Venetian  journey  to  Florentine 
art  in  the  putto  playing  the  lute. 

2  Inartistic  engravers,  such  as  Jesi,  have  placed  the  Madonna 
higher  in  the  picture,  misled  by  an  arbitrary  desire  to  improve  it, 
and  thus  have  dislocated  the  arabesque. 


Fra  Bartolommeo  217 


breadth  and  space.  The  most  perfect  expression  of 
his  art  is  found  in  the  Marriage  of  St.  Catherine  (Pitti), 


The  Virgin  appearing  to  St.  Bernard,  by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 


and  in  the  cartoon  of  the  Patron  Saints  of  Florence 
with  St.  Anne  and  two  others  (Uffizi) :  both  were 
painted  in  1512. 

The  space  in  these  pictures  is  closely  filled  in. 
Bartolommeo  wanted  a  dark  background.  A  wide 
landscape  claiming  the  attention  of  the  spectator 


218       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


would  have  been  disturbing  to  the  harmony  of  his 
pictures.  He  demanded  the  accompaniment  of  heavy, 
solemn  architecture.  A  large  empty  semicircular 
niche  is  often  the  motive;  he  may  have  learnt  the 
effect  of  this  at  Venice.  The  shadow  thrown  by  the 
vaulting  constitutes  the  value  of  this  motive.  Strong 
colour  is  abandoned,  just  as  the  Venetians  themselves, 
by  the  sixteenth  century,  had  given  up  bright  hues 
in  favour  of  neutral  tints. 

To  secure  animation  of  line  for  his  figures,  Barto- 
lommeo  placed  two  or  three  steps  rising  from  the  fore- 
ground to '  the  background.  This  motive  of  steps, 
which  Raphael  used  with  grandiose  effect  in  the 
School  of  Athens,  became  indispensable  in  the  Frate's 
altar-pieces  with  their  numerous  figures. 

The  point  of  sight  is  thus  put  far  back,  so  that  the 
figures  behind  are  lowered.  This  may  have  been 
intended  as  the  natural  point  of  sight  for  the  spectator 
in  the  church.  Bartolommeo's  strongly  accentuated 
composition  is  especially  benefited  by  this  perspective. 
The  rise  and  fall  of  the  rhythmical  theme  is  clearly 
marked.  With  all  his  fulness,  Bartolommeo  never 
produces  a  disturbing  or  confusing  effect.  He  con- 
structs his  pictures  on  a  definite  plan,  and  the 
pillars  on  which  his  composition  rests  are  at  once 
apparent. 

In  the  Marriage, 1  the  figure  in  the  right-hand  corner 
is  a  singularly  characteristic  type,  a  motive  proper  to 

1  The  marriage  of  St.  Catherine  is  not  the  central  motive  of 
the  picture,  but  the  name  must  be  tolerated  for  purposes  of 
distinction. 


Fra  Bartolommeo  219 


the  wealth  of  movement  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
one  which  Pontormo  and  Andrea  del  Sarto  have  made 
their  own:  one  foot  planted  on  the  step,  the  arm  out- 
stretched, the  turn  of  the  head  contrasting  with  that 
of  the  body.  The  grasping  hands  and  curving  body 
are  full  of  energy.  In  order  to  display  the  muscles 
and  the  joints  the  arm  is  nude  to  the  elbow.  Michel- 
angelo had  set  this  fashion,  but  he  would  certainly 
have  drawn  this  arm  differently.  The  wrist  lacks 
expression. 

The  St.  George  on  the  left  side  forms  a  happy 
contrast  by  its  simplicity.  The  gleaming  armour 
emerging  from  the  dark  background  was  a  novelty  to 
Florentine  eyes. 

Lastly,  the  suggestive  group  of  the  Child  and  His 
Mother,  who  directs  the  movement  downwards  by 
giving  the  wedding-ring  to  St.  Catherine,  is  of  wonder- 
ful sweetness,  and  very  characteristic  of  Bartolommeo 
in  the  liquid  flow  of  the  line. 

Pictures  of  this  type,  with  their  rich  rhythmic  life, 
the  severe  correctness  of  their  tectonic  structure,  and 
their  unfettered  movement,  made  a  great  impression 
on  the  Florentines. 

That  which  had  been  so  much  admired  formerly 
in  Perugino's  geometrically  arranged  Pietd  (1494), 
was  here  presented  in  a  higher  form.  In  his  fresco 
of  the  Visitation  (outer  court  of  the  Annunziata)  Pon- 
tormo has  attempted,  and  not  unsuccessfully,  to  imi- 
tate the  composition  of  the  Frate.  He  raises  the 
chief  group  in  front  of  a  niche,  he  sets  powerfully  con- 
trasted corner-figures  near  the  margin  in  the  fore- 
ground, he  employs  the  motive  of  the  steps  to  fill  up 


220      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

the  middle  space,  and  by  these  means  achieves  a 
truly  monumental  impression.    The  value  of  each 


Madonna  with  Saints,  by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 


individual  figure  is  increased  by  its  forming  part 
of  so  striking  a  whole. 

The  Madonna  at  Besangon  claims  particular  notice, 
in  that  it  contains  a  most  beautiful  figure  of  a  St. 
Sebastian.    The  movement  is  magnificently  fluent, 


Fra  Bartolommeo  221 


and  the  painting  has  the  Venetian  breadth.  The 
combined  influences  of  Perugino  and  Bellini  are 
noticeable.  The  light  falls  only  on  the  right  side  of 
the  body,  where  the  action  is  most  lively,  and  so,  to 
the  immense  advantage  of  the  figure  the  essentials 
of  the  motive  are  made  prominent.  But  the  picture 
is  also  noticeable  for  its  subject.  The  Madonna  is 
represented  on  clouds,  and  these  clouds  are  enclosed 
in  an  architectonic  interior,  which  only  allows  a 
glimpse  into  the  open  air  through  a  door  in  the  back- 
ground. This  is  idealism  of  a  novel  kind.  Barto- 
lommeo seems  to  have  wanted  the  dark  background 
and  the  depth  of  shadow.  He  also  obtained  in  this 
way  new  contrasts  in  the  figures  of  the  standing  saint?. 
The  impression  of  space  is,  however,  inadequate,  and 
the  open  door,  instead  of  increasing  this,  seems  to  con- 
tract it  further.  The  picture  originally  terminated 
differently  at  the  top.  There  was  a  Coronation  in 
the  lunette.  It  is  possible  that  by  this  means  the 
general  effect  was  improved.  This  picture  seems 
to  have  been  painted  about  1512. 

The  Frate's  emotional  power  culminated  in  the 
deep  pathos  of  the  Madonna  delta  Misericordia  of  the 
year  15 15  at  Lucca  (Academy).  These  Misericordia 
pictures  in  their  familiar  form  are  oblong  in  shape: 
the  Madonna  stands  in  the  middle,  and  clasps  her 
hands  in  prayer.  To  the  right  and  left  under  her 
cloak  kneel  the  devout  persons  who  place  themselves 
under  her  protection.  In  Bartolommeo's  hands  they 
become  large  upright  pictures  rounded  at  the  top. 
The  Virgin  stands  raised  above  the  earth.  Angels 
spread  out  her  cloak,  and  thus  she  offers  her  loud  and 


222       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


urgent  intercevSsion  with  a  magnificently  triumphant 
gesture,  her  arms  extended,  one  upwards,  the  other 
downwards;  Christ,  granting  her  prayer,  answers 
her  from  heaven.  His  figure,  too,  is  enveloped  in  a 
fluttering  mantle. 

In  order  to  give  ease  to  Mary's  action  Bartolommeo 
was  forced  to  raise  one  of  her  feet  above  the  other. 
What  was  to  be  excuse  for  this  inequality  of  height? 
He  was  not  for  a  moment  at  a  loss;  to  carry  out  the 
idea,  he  placed  a  small  step  under  one  foot.  The 
classical  age  found  no  fault  with  these  expedients, 
at  which  the  modern  critic  would  cry  out.  The  con- 
gregation is  ranged  in  stages  from  the  podium  down 
to  the  foreground,  and  groups  are  formed  of  mothers 
and  children,  of  praying  and  gesticulating  persons,  who 
may  from  the  standpoint  of  form  be  compared  with 
those  in  the  Heliodorus.  This  comparison  is  some- 
what dangerous,  for  it  at  once  reveals  the  real  defect 
in  the  picture.  It  is  deficient  in  continuity  of  move- 
ment; the  movement,  that  is,  which  is  carried  on  from 
one  member  of  the  group  to  another.  Bartolommeo 
continually  renewed  his  attempts  to  represent  such 
mass-movements,  but  he  seems  here  to  have  reached 
the  limit  of  his  talent.1 

Titian's  Assumption  was  painted  a  few  years  after 
the  Madonna  delta  Miser icordia.  A  reference  to  this 
unique  creation  can  hardly  be  avoided,  seeing  how 
closely  the  motives  of  the  two  works  are  connected, 
but  it  would  be  unfair  to  measure  Bartolommeo's 

1  The  relation  to  the  Heliodorus  is  still  clearer  in  the  Rape  of 
Dinah  in  Vienna,  the  drawing  for  which  was  due  to  Bartolommeo. 


Fra  Bartolommeo  223 


merit  by  Titian.  The  importance  of  Bartolommeo 
for  Florence  was  immense,  and  the  picture  at  Lucca 
is  a  convincing  expression  of  the  lofty  spirit  of  that 
time.  How  quickly  such  lofty  conceptions  are  de- 
based is  best  shown  by  Baroccio's  popular  picture  on 
the  same  theme,  known  as  the  Madonna  del  Popolo 
(Uffizi).  Admirably  bold  and  bright  in  its  pictur- 
esque design,  it  is  absolutely  trivial  in  essence.  Akin 
to  the  Madonna  delta  Misericordia  is  the  Risen  Christ 
of  the  Pitti  (15 1 7).  All  that  was  uncertain  and  false 
in  the  former  is  eliminated  here.  The  picture  may  be 
regarded  as  the  most  perfect  of  the  Frate's  works. 
He  had  become  more  tranquil.  But  the  restrained 
pathos  of  this  gentle,  beneficent  Christ  has  a  more 
searching  and  convincing  effect  than  any  violent 
gesture:  "Behold  I  live,  and  ye  shall  live  also!" 
Bartolommeo  had  been  in  Rome  just  previously 
and  may  have  seen  the  Sistine  Madonna  there.  The 
magnificent  simplicity  of  the  folds  of  the  drapery  is  of 
a  very  similar  kind.  In  the  silhouette  he  introduces 
a  gradually  ascending  triple  undulation,  a  splendid 
motive  which  was  destined  to  be  further  employed 
in  his  pictures  of  the  Madonna.  The  drawing  of  the 
uplifted  arm  and  the  knowledge  of  anatomy  shown  in 
it  would  have  satisfied  Michelangelo.  Here  again  we 
have  the  great  niche  in  the  background.  Christ  rises 
above  it,  and  His  figure  thus  gains  in  dignity.  He 
is  raised  above  the  Evangelists  by  a  pedestal,  an 
apparently  obvious  contrivance,  which  is  quite  alien 
to  the  whole  Florentine  Quattrocento.  The  first 
examples  of  it  are  found  in  Venice. 

The  four  evangelists  are  sterling  personalities,  firm 


224      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  massive  of  type.  Only  two  are  accentuated. 
The  two  at  the  back  are  completely  subordinated  to 
the  two  in  front,  with  whom  they  combine  in  sil- 
houette. This  illustrates  Bartolommeo's  feeling  for 
mass.  The  profiles  and  full-faces,  the  upright  and 
stooping  positions,  are  distributed  with  an  absolutely 
mature  calculation  of  effect.  The  vertical  line  of  the 
full-face  to  the  right  is  not  so  impressive  in  it- 
self; it  acquires  special  force  from  its  connection,  and 
from  the  architectonic  accompaniments.  We  recog- 
nise their  inevitability. 

Lastly,  the  group  of  mourners,  the  Pieta,  has  been 
treated  by  Bartolommeo  with  the  most  noble  restraint 
of  expression,  as  the  greatest  artists  of  his  time  treated 
it.  All  the  details  of  this  picture  combine  with  and 
emphasise  the  rest.  (Picture  in  the  Pitti.)  The 
lamentation  is  subdued.  There  is  a  gentle  meeting 
of  two  profiles;  the  mother  has  raised  the  dead  hand, 
and  stoops  to  imprint  a  last  kiss  on  the  forehead. 
That  is  all.  The  Christ  shows  no  trace  of  the  suffer- 
ings He  has  undergone.  The  position  of  His  head  is 
not  that  of  a  corpse.  Even  here  idealism  prevails. 
The  features  of  the  Magdalen,  who  has  thrown  herself 
in  passionate  grief  at  the  feet  of  the  Lord,  are  in- 
distinguishable. The  expression  of  the  St.  John,  how- 
ever, shows,  as  Jacob  Burckhardt  remarked,  traces  of 
the  exertion  of  bearing  the  body — a  truly  dramatic 
touch.  The  emotions  are  thus  strongly  differentiated, 
and  the  parallelism  of  expression,  found  in  Perugino's 
works,  is  replaced  by  vigorous  contrasts,  reciprocally 
enhanced.  A  similar  economy  governs  the  physical 
movements.    Two  figures  are  now  wanting  in  the 


Fra  Bartolommeo  225 


composition,  for  a  St.  Peter  and  a  St.  Paul  were  once 
in  the  picture.    We  must  imagine  them  also  bending 


The  Risen  Christ  with  the  Four  Evangelists, 
by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 


down,  above  the  Magdalen,  the  ugliness  of  whose 
silhouette  would  thus  be  modified.1    The  absence  of 

1  The  figures  were  put  in,  but  were  expunged.  For  the  com- 
plete group  see  Albertinelli's  Pieta  in  the  Academy. 

15 


226      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


these  figures  has  shifted  the  accent  of  the  whole. 
There  was,  however,  no  symmetrical  distribution  of 
masses,  such  as  the  picture  now  seems  to  suggest ;  a 
free  rhythmical  arrangement  was  aimed  at,  but  the 
three  heads  to  the  left  certainly  require  some  counter- 
poise.   Later,  the  base  of  a  cross  was  added  in  the 


Pieta,  by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 


middle  of  the  group,  obviously  incorrectly;  for  this 
particular  place  should  be  unaccented. 

Compared  with  Perugino,  who  seemed  so  calm 
among  his  contemporaries,  Bartolommeo  is  even  more 
restrained  and  impressive  in  line.  The  great  parallel 
horizontal  lines  on  the  border  of  the  foreground  only 
serve  to  express  the  very  simple,  relievo-like  group- 
ing of  the  figures,  with  the  two  dominating  profiles. 
Bartolommeo  must  have  realised  the  beneficial  results 
of  thus  giving  repose  to  the  picture.  He  succeeds  in 
conveying  a  similar  impression  of  repose  by  lowering 


Fra  Bartolommeo  227 


the  group.  Perugino's  lofty  triangle  has  become 
an  obtuse-angled  group  of  inconsiderable  height.  The 
oblong  shape  of  the  picture  was  perhaps  selected  with 
the  same  object. 

Bartolommeo  might  have  been  able  to  continue  his 
work  still  further,  tranquilly  bringing  the  whole  range 
of  Christian  subjects  nearer  to  their  classical  form. 
We  gather  from  his  sketches  that  his  imagination 
rapidly  kindled,  evoking  definite  pictorial  forms,  to 
which  he  applied  the  laws  of  effect  with  unerring 
precision.  Yet  it  was  not  the  application  of  rule  which 
decided  the  effect  in  his  case,  but  the  personality 
which  had  created  rules  of  its  own.  How  little  aca- 
demic instruction  could  be  gleaned  in  his  studio  is 
shown  by  the  example  of  Albertinelli,  who  was  one  of 
his  closest  intimates. 

Mariotto  Albertinelli  (1474-1515)  was  called  by 
Vasari  ua  second  Bartolommeo."  He  was  long  his 
collaborator,  but  he  was  of  a  very  different  tempera- 
ment. He  lacks  the  Frate's  conviction.  Endowed 
with  great  talents,  he  essayed  problems  now  and 
again,  but  arrived  at  no  logical  result,  and  at  intervals 
he  abandoned  painting  altogether,  and  took  to  inn- 
keeping. 

The  early  picture  of  the  Visitation  (1503)  shows 
him  at  his  best;  the  conception  of  the  group  is  pure 
and  beautiful,  blending  harmoniously  with  the  back- 
ground. The  subject  of  the  mutual  greeting  is  not 
very  easy  to  master;  to  get  the  four  hands  into  their 
places  is  a  difficult  feat.  Ghirlandajo  had  treated 
the  theme  not  long  before  (picture  in  the  Louvre, 
dated  1491).    He  makes  Elizabeth  kneel  and  stretch 


228       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


out  her  arms,  while  Mary  lays  her  hands  soothingly  on 
her  shoulders.  But  by  this  arrangement  one  of  the 
four  hands  has  entirely  disappeared,  and  the  parallel 
movement  of  the  arm  of  Mary  is  not  one  which  we 
should  care  to  see  repeated.  Albertinelli  is  at  once 
richer  and  clearer.  The  women  clasp  their  right 
hands,  and  the  disengaged  left  arms  are  differen- 
tiated by  making  Elizabeth  embrace  her  visitor,  while 
Mary  modestly  places  her  hand  before  her  bosom. 
The  motive  of  kneeling  is  abandoned.  Albertinelli 
wanted  to  bring  the  two  profiles  quite  close  together. 
By  the  rapid  step  of  the  elder  woman  and  the  slight 
inclination  of  her  head,  he  has  clearly  marked  her 
subordination  to  Mary,  while  by  casting  a  strong 
shadow  on  her  face  he  further  emphasises  the  idea. 
No  Quattrocentist  would  have  yet  thought  of  making 
the  distinction  thus.  The  two  stand  in  front  of  a 
vestibule,  the  architecture  of  which  clearly  owes  its 
origin  to  Perugino,  and  the  vast  peaceful  background 
of  sky  is  conceived  quite  in  his  style.  Later  artists 
would  have  avoided  the  further  glimpses  of  landscape 
on  either  side  of  the  picture.  The  drapery  and  the 
flowery  foreground  still  show  traces  of  the  Quattro- 
cento. 

The  great  Crucifixion  in  the  Certosa  (1506)  also 
shows  Perugino's  influence.  But  four  years  after- 
wards Albertinelli  created  the  new  and  classic  emenda- 
tion of  the  figure  on  the  cross  in  his  picture  of  the 
Trinity  (Academy,  Florence).  All  earlier  artists 
separate  the  legs  widely  at  the  knees.  But  a  finer 
pictorial  result  is  obtained  when  subordination  takes 
the  place  of  co-ordination,  i.  e.}  when  one  leg  is  pushed 


The  Holy  Trinity,  by  Albertinelli. 


229 


230      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


over  the  other.  Hereafter,  the  painter  went  further 
still  and  made  a  counter-movement  of  the  head  corre- 
spond to  this  movement  of  the  legs.  If  the  direction 
of  the  lower  limbs  is  towards  the  right,  then  the  head 
leans  towards  the  left.  Thus  the  theme,  apparently 
so  stiff  and  incapable  of  any  beauty  of  rendering, 
gains  a  rhythm  which  is  never  afterwards  wanting. 

The  interesting  Annunciation  (in  the  Academy)  of 
the  same  year  must  be  mentioned.  He  devoted  much 
labour  to  this  picture,  which  is  important  in  the  history 
of  general  development.  We  may  remember  how  in- 
significant a  role  was  commonly  assigned  to  the  First 
Person  of  the  Trinity  in  pictures  of  the  Annunciation. 
He  appears  as  a  small  half-length  figure  somewhere  in 
the  top  corner,  and  sends  down  the  Dove.  Here  he 
is  depicted  full  length,  placed  in  the  centre,  and  sur- 
rounded by  a  garland  of  angels.  These  flying  angels, 
with  their  instruments  of  music,  demanded  labour, 
and  the  artist,  who  in  disgust  exchanged  the  duties 
of  a  painter  for  those  of  an  innkeeper,  in  order  to  be 
freed  from  the  eternal  talk  about  foreshortening,  has 
made  a  creditable  effort  here.  In  the  celestial  motive 
some  trace  of  the  nimbi  of  the  seventeenth  century  is 
already  discernible.  Everything,  however,  is  still  sym- 
metrical, and  on  one  plane,  while  the  celestial  figures 
of  the  seventeenth  century  usually  advance  diagonally 
from  the  depth  of  the  picture.  The  calmly  dignified 
Mary  harmonises  with  the  increased  solemnity  of  the 
rendering.  She  stands  in  a  graceful  posture,  and  does 
not  face  towards  the  angel,  but  looking  at  him  over 
her  shoulder,  receives  his  reverent  salutation.  With- 
out this  picture,  Andrea  del  Sarto  would  never  have 


The  Annunciation,  by  Albertinelli. 


231 


232       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


created  his  Annunciation  of  15 12.  It  is  interesting 
also  pictorially,  since  it  shows  as  background  a  large 
dark  interior  in  greenish  tints.  The  work  was  in- 
tended to  be  hung  high  up,  and  the  perspective  takes 
this  into  account,  but  the  abruptly  descending  line  of 
the  cornice  produces  a  harsh  effect  in  relation  to  the 
figure. 


VI 


ANDREA  DEL  SARTO 
1486-153 i 

Andrea  del  Sarto  has  been  termed  superficial 
and  soulless,  and  it  is  true  that  there  are  common- 
place pictures  by  him,  and  that  in  his  later  years  he 
was  prone  to  become  stereotyped.  He  is  the  only  one 
among  the  painters  of  the  first  rank  who  seems  to  have 
had  some  defect  in  his  moral  constitution.  By  birth 
he  was  the  refined  Florentine  of  the  race  of  the  Filip- 
pinos  and  Leonardos,  most  fastidious  in  his  taste,  a 
painter  of  elegance,  of  soft  luxurious  attitudes,  and 
dignified  movements  of  the  hand.  He  was  a  child 
of  the  world,  and  his  Madonnas  have  a  certain  worldly 
elegance.  He  does  not  aim  at  strong  movement  and 
effect,  and  hardly  ever  goes  beyond  stately  standing 
and  walking.  In  this  way,  however,  he  develops  a 
fascinating  sense  of  beauty.  Vasari  reproaches  him 
with  excessive  timidity  and  tameness,  and  a  want  of 
proper  audacity.  It  is  only  necessary  to  have  seen 
one  of  the  great  "  machines  "  Vasari  was  accustomed  to 
paint  himself,  to  understand  this  criticism,  but  An- 
drea's works  also  appear  tame  and  simple  by  the  side 
of  the  mighty  constructions  of  Fra  Bartolommeo  or  the 
Roman  school.  Yet  he  was  gifted  with  versatile  and 
brilliant  powers.    Brought  up  to  admire  Michelangelo, 

233 


234       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


he  could  claim  for  a  period  to  be  reckoned  the  best 
draughtsman  in  Florence.  He  treated  the  articula- 
tions with  an  incisiveness,  and  brought  out  their 
functions  with  an  energy  and  vigour  which  must  have 
secured  widespread  admiration  for  his  pictures,  even 
if  the  hereditary  Florentine  skill  in  draughtsmanship 
had  not  in  his  case  been  coupled  with  a  gift  for  paint- 
ing which  was  almost  unique  in  Tuscany.  He  paid  lit- 
tle attention  to  picturesque  phenomena,  and  did  not, 
for  example,  show  much  perception  of  the  material 
characteristics  of  things,  but  the  mild  radiance  of  his 
flesh-tints  and  the  soft  atmosphere  in  which  his  figures 
repose  have  a  great  charm.  In  his  feeling  for  colour, 
as  in  his  feeling  for  line,  he  has  the  soft,  almost  languid 
beauty  which  makes  him  appear  more  modern  than 
any  one  else. 

Without  Andrea  del  Sarto,  Cinquecentist  Florence 
would  have  lacked  her  festal  painter.  In  the  great 
fresco  of  the  Birth  of  Mary  in  the  outer  court  of  the 
Annunziata  we  have  that  which  Raphael  and  Barto- 
lommeo  do  not  give:  humanity's  exquisite  delight  in 
life  at  the  moment  when  the  Renaissance  was  at  its 
apogee.  We  would  gladly  have  had  many  more  such 
pictures  of  real  life  from  Andrea ;  he  should  not  have 
painted  any  other.  It  was,  however,  not  entirely  his 
own  fault  that  he  did  not  become  the  Paolo  Veronese 
of  Florence. 

i. — The  Frescoes  of  the  Annunziata 

The  traveller  usually  receives  his  first  great  im- 
pression of  Andrea  in  the  outer  court  of  the  Annun- 


t2 

CD 

Tj  +-> 
H 

>  ^ 


PQ 


236      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ziata.  Here  we  have  nothing  but  early  and  serious 
subjects.  Five  scenes  from  the  life  of  San  Filippo 
Benizzi,  the  last  dated  151 1,  and  then  the  Birth  of  the 
Virgin  and  the  Procession  of  the  Three  Kings  (15 14). 
The  pictures  are  in  a  beautiful  light  tone,  at  first  still 
somewhat  dry  in  the  juxtaposition  of  colours,  but  in 
the  picture  of  the  Birth  the  rich  harmonious  modelling 
of  Andrea  is  fully  apparent.  In  the  first  two  pictures 
his  handling  of  the  confposition  is  loose  and  insouciant, 
but  in  the  third  he  becomes  severe,  and  builds  up  a 
design  with  an  accentuated  centre  and  symmetrically 
developed  side  scenes.  He  drives  a  wedge  into  the 
crowd,  making  the  central  figures  retreat,  and  the 
picture  gains  depth,  in  contrast  to  that  array  of  lines 
along  the  front  edge  of  the  picture,  which  Ghirlan- 
dajo  still  employed  almost  exclusively.  This  central 
scheme  is  in  itself  no  innovation  in  an  historical 
picture,  but  the  way  in  which  the  figures  stretched  out 
their  hands  to  each  other  is  novel.  There  are  no 
separate  rows  placed  one  behind  the  other,  but  the 
various  members  emerge  from  the  depth  of  the  back- 
ground in  a  clearly  arranged  and  unbroken  sequence. 
This  is  the  identical  problem  which  Raphael  set  him- 
self at  this  same  time,  but  on  a  far  larger  scale,  in  the 
Disputa  and  the  School  of  Athens.  The  last  picture, 
the  Birth  of  the  Virgin,  marks  Sarto's  transition  from 
the  strictly  tectonic  to  the  freely  rhythmical  style. 
The  composition  swells  in  a  magnificent  curve:  be- 
ginning from  the  left  with  the  women  by  the  fire- 
place, the  movement  reaches  its  climax  in  the  two 
walking  women,  and  dies  away  in  the  group  by  the 
bed  of  the  mother.    The  freedom  of  this  rhythmical 


Andrea  del  Sarto  237 


arrangement  is  indeed  very  different  from  the  licence 
of  the  earlier  unrestrained  style.  Law  exists  here, 
and  the  way  in  which  the  standing  women  dominate 
and  bind  the  whole  picture  together  first  becomes 
imaginable  as  a  motive  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

As  soon  as  he  substituted  strict  composition  for  the 
preliminary  loose  juxtaposition,  Andrea  del  Sarto  felt 
the  necessity  of  calling  in  architecture  to  his  aid.  He 
looked  to  it  to  bind  the  whole  together  and  to  give 
stability  to  the  figures.  This  was  the  beginning 
of  that  combined  idea  of  space  and  figures,  which  may 
be  said  to  have  been  on  the  whole  quite  alien  to  the 
Quattrocento  pictures,  in  which  buildings  played 
rather  the  part  of  an  incidental  accompaniment  and 
embellishment.  Andrea  was  but  a  beginner,  and  it 
can  never  be  said  that  he  was  successful  in  his  treat- 
ment of  architecture.  We  notice  the  difficulty  he 
found  in  dealing  adequately  with  a  very  large  space. 
His  architectural  background  is  generally  too  heavy. 
Where  he  makes  an  opening  in  the  centre,  its  effect  is 
to  contract  rather  than  to  expand,  and  where  he  allows 
a  glimpse  of  the  landscape  at  the  sides  of  the  picture, 
he  only  distracts  the  attention  of  the  spectator.  His 
figures  throughout  have  a  somewhat  forlorn  appear- 
ance. It  is  the  interior  of  the  Birth  of  the  Virgin  that 
first  solves  the  problem. 

Any  comparison  with  Raphael  shows  how  little 
competent  Andrea  was  to  deal  with  the  dramatic 
nature  of  the  scenes  here  represented.  The  gestures 
of  the  wonder-working  saint  are  neither  imposing  nor 
convincing,  and  the  spectators  are  content  to  stand 
by  listlessly  with  some  languid  gesture  of  surprise. 


238       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Where  for  once  he  has  treated  some  scene  of  vigorous 
action,  where  the  lightning  causes  the  triflers  and  scoff- 
ers to  fly  in  terror,  he  shows  these  figures  quite  small 
in  the  middle  distance,  although  this  would  have  been 
a  suitable  opportunity  for  applying  his  studies  of 
Michelangelo's  cartoon  of  the  Bathing  Soldiers.  The 
chief  motives  are  all  quiet,  yet  it  is  worth  while  to 
trace  out  the  thought  of  the  artist  in  each  particular 
case,  and  we  shall  find  very  beautiful  motives  con- 
ceived with  the  delicacy  of  youth  in  these  very  pictures 
where  he  had  three  times  successively  the  task  of 
working  from  a  centre,  and  arranging  the  figures, 
whether  standing,  approaching,  or  sitting,  symmetri- 
cally as  a  whole,  though  unsymmetrically  in  detail. 
The  simplicity  has  often  the  effect  of  timidity,  but  we 
gladly  abandon  for  a  moment  the  forms  made  interest- 
ing merely  by  antithesis  of  position.  Andrea  first 
achieves  absolute  freedom  in  the  picture  of  the  Birth 
of  the  Virgin.  Aristocratic  nonchalance  and  indolent 
self-abandonment  have  found  no  more  able  inter- 
preter. The  whole  rhythm  of  the  Cinquecento  lives 
in  the  two  advancing  women.  The  lying-in  mother  is 
also  more  richly  treated.  The  flat  position  and  the 
stiff  back  given  her  in  Ghirlandajo's  work  now  seem 
as  barbarously  antiquated  as  the  manner  in  which 
Masaccio  makes  her  lie  on  her  stomach  must  have 
seemed  vulgar  to  the  noble  Florentines. 

The  lying-in  woman  went  through  a  development 
similar  to  that  of  the  recumbent  figure  on  tombs. 
In  both  there  is  now  much  turning  and  differentiation 
of  the  limbs. 

The  most  fertile  motive  of  a  lying-in  room  from  the 


Andrea  del  Sarto  239 


point  of  view  of  rich  effects  is  the  cluster  of  women  who 
are  busied  with  the  baby.  Here  is  scope  for  a  splendid 
multiplicity  of  curves,  and  the  sitting  and  stooping 
figures  combine  into  a  close  knot  of  movement.  Sarto 
is  still  reticent  in  working  out  this  theme,  but  later 
artists  make  it  the  central  idea  of  such  pictures.  The 
group  of  women  is  put  right  into  the  foreground,  and 
the  bed  with  the  mother  is  pushed  back.  In  this 
way  the  idea  of  the  visit  naturally  disappears.  In 
a  colossal  picture  in  S.  Maria  del  Popolo  (Rome) 
Sebastiano  del  Piombo  presents  the  scene  for  the  first 
time  in  this  form,  which  was  universally  adopted 
during  the  seventeenth  century. 

In  the  upper  part  of  the  picture  an  angel  is  seen 
swinging  a  censer.  Familiar  as  the  cloud-motive  in 
this  place  is  to  us  from  examples  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  we  are  still  much  surprised  to  find  it  intro- 
duced here  by  Sarto.  We  have  become  so  accustomed 
to  the  bright  clear  realism  of  the  Quattrocento,  that 
such  miraculous  appearances  are  not  accepted  as 
matters  of  course.  A  change  of  sentiment  has  ob- 
viously taken  place.  Men's  thoughts  are  once  more 
fixed  on  the  ideal,  and  scope  is  given  to  the  miracu- 
lous. We  shall  meet  with  a  similar  symptom  in  the 
Annunciation.1 

In  spite  of  this  ideality  Andrea  retained  the  Floren- 
tine fashion  of  his  day  in  the  costume  of  the  women, 

1  Andrea  knew  Durer  and  made  use  of  him.  This  is  clear 
from  other  cases.  It  is  possible  that  even  here  the  angel  was 
suggested  by  Durer's  Life  of  Mary.  The  artist  must  have  been 
glad  to  be  able  to  fill  up  the  superfluous  space  at  the  top  of  the 
picture  in  some  way  or  other. 


240      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  in  the  furniture  of  the  room.  It  is  a  Florentine 
room  in  the  modern  style,  and  the  dresses — as  Vasari 
expressly  states — are  those  worn  at  the  date  of  the 
picture  (15 14). 

If  in  this  Birth  of  the  Virgin  Andrea  attempted  the 
free  rhythmical  style,  this  does  not  mean  that  he 
regarded  the  stricter  tectonic  composition  as  a  pre- 
liminary stage  he  had  accomplished.  He  returns  to 
it  in  another  place,  the  cloisters  of  the  Scalzo.  The 
entrance  court  of  the  Annunziata  itself  contains  an 
admirable  example  of  the  kind  in  the  Visitation  by 
Pontormo,  which  was  painted  immediately  after. 
Vasari  was  right  in  saying  that  any  one  who  wished  to 
rival  Andrea  del  Sarto  in  this  field  must  create  a  work 
of  extraordinary  beauty.  Pontormo  has  done  this. 
The  Visitation  not  only  produces  an  imposing  effect 
by  the  increased  size  of  the  figures;  it  is  intrinsically 
a  great  composition.  The  central  scheme,  according 
to  the  design  which  Andrea  had  thoroughly  tested 
five  years  before,  is  now  for  the  first  time  raised  to  the 
height  of  an  architectonic  effect.  The  greeting  of  the 
two  women  takes  place  on  a  platform,  raised  on  steps, 
in  front  of  a  niche.  By  means  of  these  steps,  which  are 
brought  well  into  the  foreground,  a  suggestive  dif- 
ference of  height  is  given  to  the  accessory  figures,  and 
a  spirited  undulation  of  lines  results.  Amid  all  this 
movement  the  great  structural  notes  are  still  clearly 
heard:  the  vertical  lines  at  the  margins,  and  between 
them  a  line  rising  and  falling,  a  triangle,  its  apex 
formed  by  the  bending  figures  of  Mary  and  Elizabeth, 
and  its  base  terminated  by  the  seated  woman  on  the 
left  and  the  boy  on  the  right.     The  triangle  is  not 


Andrea  del  Sarto  241 


equilateral,  the  longer  line  is  on  Mary's  side,  the 
shorter  on  that  of  Elizabeth.  The  nude  boy  beneath 
has  not  stretched  out  his  leg  by  chance :  it  was  essen- 
tial that  he  should  continue  the  line  in  this  direction. 
Everything  works  together,  and  every  single  figure 
participates  in  the  dignity  and  solemnity  of  the  great 
and  uniformly  harmonious  theme.  It  is  obvious  that 
the  picture  is  greatly  indebted  to  the  altar-pieces  of 
Fra  Bartolommeo.  An  artist  of  the  second  rank,  sus- 
tained by  the  great  epoch,  has  produced  a  really  im- 
portant and  effective  work  here. 

The  Sposalizio  of  Franciabigio  seems  somewhat 
thin  and  meagre  in  comparison,  in  spite  of  the  delicacy 
of  its  details.    We  may  therefore  pass  it  over. 

2. — The  Frescoes  of  the  Scalzo 

On  the  walls  of  the  little  colonnaded  courtyard 
of  the  Scalzi  (Barefooted  Friars),  Andrea  del  Sarto 
painted  the  story  of  John  the  Baptist,  not  in  colour, 
but  in  monochrome,  and  in  modest  dimensions. 

Two  of  the  frescoes  are  by  Franciabigio,  the  other 
ten  and  the  four  allegorical  figures  are  entirely  by 
Sarto's  own  hand.  They  are  not  uniform  in  style, 
for  the  work  dragged  on  for  fifteen  years  with  many 
interruptions,  so  that  almost  the  whole  development 
of  the  artist  may  be  traced  here. 

Painting  in  chiaroscuro  or  monochrome  had  long 
been  practised.  Cennino  Annini  says  that  it  is 
adopted  on  surfaces  which  are  exposed  to  the 
weather.  It  is  also  found  in  conjunction  with  col- 
our painting  in  places  of  minor  importance,  such  as 


242       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


parapets  or  dark  walls  with  windows.  But  in  the 
sixteenth  century  a  certain  predilection  was  shown 
for  it,  which  is  comprehensible  in  connection  with 
the  new  style. 

The  small  courtyard  has  a  delightful  air  of  repose. 
The  unity  of  colour,  the  harmony  of  frescoes  and 
architecture,  the  style  of  the  framework,  all  combine 
to  give  the  pictures  an  admirable  setting.  The 
student  of  Sarto  will  not  expect  to  find  the  significance 
of  these  works  in  their  psychical  moments.  The  St. 
John  is  a  dull  preacher  of  repentance  and  the  scenes 
of  terror  have  no  striking  dramatic  effects.  We  must 
not  expect  strong  characterisation,  but  Sarto  is  al- 
ways clear  and  full  of  beautiful  movement.  We  see 
here  how  the  interest  of  the  age  tended  more  and  more 
to  concentrate  itself  on  beauty  of  form,  and  how  the 
merit  of  a  story  was  assessed  according  to  its  adap- 
tation to  a  given  space. 

We  will  discuss  the  frescoes  in  the  order  of  their 
completion. 

1.  The  Baptism  of  Christ  (151 1).  This  picture 
may  at  once  be  recognised  as  the  earliest  of  the  series, 
by  the  way  in  which  the  figures  fail  to  fill  the  space, 
but  stand  about  in  detached  groups.  There  is  too 
much  room.  The  finest  figure  is  that  of  Christ,  which 
is  marvellously  delicate  in  the  action  and  light  in 
effect.  The  weight  of  the  body  is  taken  off  the  right 
leg,  but  the  heels  are  quietly  brought  together.  The 
legs  are  partly  crossed,  and  the  narrowing  of  the 
silhouette  near  the  knees  gives  an  unusually  elastic 
effect.  It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  feet  are  not  im- 
mersed in  the  water,  but  are  still  visible.  Some 


244      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


minor  schools  of  idealists  had  always  so  represented 
them,  but  the  interests  of  plastic  clearness  now  re- 
quired it.  Similarly,  the  uncovering  of  the  hips  meets 
the  demand  for  a  more  distinct  image.  The  old  loin- 
cloth, tied  horizontally,  interrupted  the  line  of  the 
body  precisely  where  the  greatest  clarity  was  required. 
Here  the  apron  which  falls  diagonally  not  only  gives 
distinctness  but  a  pleasing  line  of  contrast  results 
spontaneously.  The  hands  of  the  Saviour  are  crossed 
on  His  breast,  not  clasped  in  prayer  as  formerly. 

We  shall  not  find  the  same  delicacy  in  the  St.  John. 
There  is  still  some  timidity  in  the  angular  irregular 
figure.  The  only  improvement  is  that  he  is  standing 
still;  Ghirlandajo  and  Verrocchio  had  represented 
him  in  the  act  of  stepping  forward.  The  angels  have 
a  family-likeness  to  the  still  more  beautiful  pair  in  the 
picture  of  the  Annunciation  (15 12). 

2.  The  Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist  (ca.  151 5). 
Here  the  figures  are  larger  in  proportion  to  the  picto- 
rial space,  and  the  more  massive  filling  of  the  surface 
at  once  gives  the  picture  a  different  appearance.  The 
scheme  of  composition  suggests  Ghirlandajo's  fresco 
in  S.  Maria  Novella.  The  raised  figure  in  the 'middle 
and  the  disposition  of  the  circle  of  listeners  with  the 
standing  figures  at  the  sides  are  identical;  as  is  also 
the  turn  of  the  preacher  towards  the  right.  Thus 
some  examination  of  the  deviations  in  details  is  all 
the  more  justifiable. 

Ghirlandajo  represents  his  orator  as  enforcing  his 
words  by  stepping  forward ;  Sarto  places  all  the  move- 
ment in  a  turn  of  the  figure  upon  its  own  axis.  This 
turn  is  at  once  quieter  and  more  expressive.  Here, 


.o 


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246       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


too,  the  marked  contraction  of  the  silhouette  at  the 
knees  is  especially  effective.  The  antiquated  orato- 
rical gesture,  the  extended  forefinger,  now  seems  petty 
and  feeble.  The  hand  is  made  to  be  effective  as  a 
mass,  and  while  in  the  one  picture  the  arm  is  kept 
stiff  in  the  same  plane,  in  the  other  it  is  extended 
more  freely  and  acquires  a  new  vitality  from  the 
foreshortening.  The  expressive  action  of  the  limbs, 
and  the  clear  definition  of  the  whole  figure  afford  a 
splendid  example  of  Cinquecentist  drawing. 

Sarto  has  less  space  to  exhibit  his  audience.  He 
was  able  however  to  produce  the  effect  of  numbers 
more  convincingly  than  Ghirlandajo,  who  only  creates 
bewilderment  with  his  score  of  heads,  each  intended 
to  be  seen  singly.  The  figures  which  close  the  com- 
position on  either  side  give  an  effect  of  mass, 1  and 
the  preacher's  gesture,  addressed  to  persons  not 
visible  in  the  picture,  tends  to  heighten  the  im- 
pression of  multitude. 

The  imposing  effect  of  the  central  figure  in  Sarto's 
fresco  is  to  be  explained  not  only  by  the  relative  scale 
of  size,  but  by  the  fact  that  everything  is  calculated 
to  throw  the  chief  accent  upon  it.  Even  the  landscape 
is  designed  with  this  end  in  view.  It  forms  a  solid 
background  to  the  preacher  and  gives  him  atmosphere 
in  front.  The  orator  stands  out  as  a  detached 
tangible  silhouette,  whereas  in-Ghirlandajo's  version 
not  only  is  he  planted  in  the  middle  of  the  crowd, 
but  he  conflicts  unhappily  with  the  lines  of  the 
background. 

1  As  is  well  known,  the  man  with  the  cowl,  as  well  as  the  woman 
sitting  and  holding  up  her  child  are  borrowed  from  Diirer. 


Andrea  del  Sarto  247 


3.  The  Baptism  of  the  People  (15 17).  The  style 
now  tends  to  become  restless.  The  drapery  is  jagged 
and  irregular,  the  movement  exaggerated.  The  mi- 
nor figures,  which  were  intended  to  relieve  the  severe 
design  by  the  charm  of  the  incidental,  exceed  their 
function.  The  figure  of  a  nude  youth  who,  with  his 
back  turned  to  the  spectator,  looks  listlessly  down,  is 
very  characteristic  of  the  master. 

4.  The  Arrest  (15 17).  This  episode  also,  though 
singularly  ill  adapted  for  the  purpose,  is  made  the 
main  subject  of  a  composition.  Herod  and  John 
are  not  placed  opposite  each  other,  profile  to  pro- 
file, but  the  prince  sits  in  the  middle,  the  Bap- 
tist opposite  to  him  diagonally  on  the  right,  while 
to  restore  the  symmetry  we  have  on  the  left 
the  impressive  figure  of  a  spectator  with  his  back 
turned.  But  as  John  has  a  gaoler  on  each  side,  the 
fresco  requires  another  counterpoise,  and  this  is  given 
by  the  (unsymmetrical)  figure  of  the  captain  of  the 
watch  advancing  from  the  depth  of  the  picture  to  the 
left.  The  rich  group  of  the  arrest  has  a  very  vivid  effect 
compared  with  the  massive  repose  of  the  one  standing 
figure  seen  from  behind.  We  may  grant  that  this  is 
nothing  more  than  a  draped  lay  figure;  nevertheless 
such  calculations  of  contrast  imply  an  advance  in  art 
for  Florence.  Formerly  it  was  customary  to  arrange 
the  figures  uniformly,  and  to  express  movement 
uniformly.  Besides  this,  the  figure  of  John,  who  has 
some  difficulty  in  fixing  the  king  with  his  eye,  is  very 
beautiful.  Even  if  the  gaolers  might  be  more  vigorous 
in  their  action,  the  mistake  at  any  rate  is  avoided, 
into  which  others  have  fallen,  of  making  their  gestures 


248       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


so  violent  that  attention  is  distracted  from  the  central 
figure. 

5.  Salome  Dancing  (1522).  The  dance  which  was 
formerly  inappropriately  combined  with  the  scene 
where  the  head  of  John  is  brought  to  Salome,  is  here 
treated  in  a  separate  picture.  Andrea  seems  to  have 
found  the  subject  very  attractive,  and  the  dancing 
Salome  is  one  of  his  most  beautiful  creations,  en- 
chantingly  harmonious  in  movement.  The  figure 
shows  no  violent  movement,  the  action  being  con- 
fined to  the  upper  part  of  the  body.  A  contrast  to 
the  dancer  is  provided  by  the  figure  of  the  retainer, 
his  back  turned  to  the  spectator,  who  brings  in  the 
platter.  It  is  necessary  to  compare. the  two  figures: 
the  one  is  the  complement  of  the  other,  and  it  is  due 
to  the  position  of  the  retainer  farther  back  in  the 
picture  that  the  momentary  pause  of  Salome,  a  most 
dramatic  touch,  produces  its  full  effect.  The  style 
has  become  calmer  again,  the  line  more  flowing. 
The  picture  is  an  admirable  example  of  ideal  simpli- 
city of  scene  and  suppression  of  all  unnecessary  details. 

6.  The  Beheading  (1523).  It  might  have  been 
thought  impossible  for  Sarto,  in  this  theme,  to  have 
avoided  the  representation  of  violent  physical  action. 
The  headsman  brandishing  his  sword  is  a  favourite 
figure  with  artists  who  have  sought  movement  for  its 
own  sake.  But  Sarto  evaded  the  obligation.  He 
does  not  give  the  execution,  but  the  quiet  incident  of 
the  gaoler  placing  the  head  in  the  platter  which 
Salome  holds  out.  He  stands  in  the  middle,  with 
legs  far  apart;  she  is  on  the  left,  and  on  the  other  side 
stands  an  officer ;  thus  again  we  have  a  central  com- 


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250       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


position.  The  sight  of  the  bloody  head  is  obtruded  as 
little  as  possible. 

7.  The  Offering  (1523).  Once  more  the  ban- 
queters. This  time  the  figures  are  placed  farther 
back ;  it  is  a  narrower  picture.  The  young  girl  carry- 
ing the  head  is  as  graceful  as  she  was  in  the  dance. 
The  stiff  attitudes  of  the  spectators  form  the  contrast 
to  the  elegant  turn  of  her  figure.  The  more  lively 
action  is  brought  into  the  middle.  The  sides  of  the 
picture  are  filled  in  with  pairs  of  figures. 

8.  The  Announcement  to  Zacharias  (1523).  The 
artist  was  now  sure  of  himself.  He  had  methods  of 
his  own  by  which  he  attained  definite  results  under 
all  conditions,  and  relying  on  this,  he  allowed  himself 
more  and  more  airiness  of  treatment.  The  convention 
of  the  side-figures  does  duty  once  more.  The  angel 
advances  into  the  background;  he  bows  silently  with 
crossed  arms  before  the  priest,  who  recoils  in  amaze- 
ment. Everything  is  superficially  suggested,  but 
the  absolute  confidence  shown  in  the  economy  of 
effects  and  the  calm  solemnity  of  the  architectonic 
setting  give  a  dignity  to  the  representation,  which 
Giotto  himself,  who  felt  so  much  more  deeply,  would 
have  found  it  difficult  to  equaL 

9.  The  Visitation  (1524).  The  symmetrical  side- 
figures  are  abandoned.  The  main  group  of  the  women 
embracing  is  placed  diagonally,  and  this  diagonal  de- 
termines the  whole  composition.  The  figures  form 
a  quincunx,  i.  e.y  they  are  arranged  like  the  five  pips  on 
a  die.  The  architectonic  background  gives  a  sense  of 
calm. 

10.  The  Naming   (1526).    Once  more  a  fresh 


Andrea  del  Sarto  251 


scheme.  The  nurse  with  the  new-born  child  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  first  zone,  facing  Joachim  seated  at 
the  side.  A  seated  female  figure  on  the  other  side  is 
an  exact  pendant.  The  mother  in  bed  and  a  servant 
are  symmetrically  inserted  in  the  second  zone  between 
the  figures  of  the  foreground.  Vasari  speaks  of  a 
" ringrandimento  della  maniera"  (increased  grandeur 
of  style),  and  eulogises  the  picture.  So  far  as  I  see 
there  is  no  specially  new  style  in  it.  All  the  elements 
had  served  before,  and  the  peculiarly  bad  condition  of 
this  fresco  does  not  even  prompt  the  wish  to  see  more 
of  it.  We  can  see  all  that  Sarto  cared  to  give  at  that 
late  period. 

The  two  pictures  which  Franciabigio  contributed 
to  this  cycle  both  bear  early  dates.  As  the  inferior 
artist  he  does  not  appear  to  advantage  by  the  side 
of  Sarto.  Merely  to  instance  one  case,  where  the  in- 
fant John  receives  the  paternal  blessing  (15 18),  the 
impetuosity  of  movement  in  the  figure  of  the  father 
produces  quite  an  antiquated  effect.  Subordinate 
figures,  in  themselves  very  beautiful,  such  as  the  boys 
on  the  balustrade,  are  too  conspicuous,  and  a  more 
refined  artist  would  never  have  introduced  the  broad 
staircase  in  this  connection.  It  is  the  only  motive 
in  the  Scalzo  cloisters  which  offends  the  eye.  This 
fresco  immediately  adjoins  the  earliest  work  of  An- 
drea, the  Baptism  of  Christ,  which  it  surpasses  in  size, 
but  not  in  beauty. 

The  series  of  historical  pictures  is  interrupted — as 
already  noticed — by  four  allegorical  figures,  all  of 
which  Sarto  painted.  They  are  intended  to  imitate 
statues  standing  in  niches.    The  arts  once  more  begin 


252       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

to  amalgamate.  Hardly  any  large  pictorial  com- 
position of  this  epoch  can  be  found  in  which  recourse 
has  not  been  had  to  plastic  art,  either  real  or  imitated. 

The  best  of  the 
figures  here  is 
perhaps  the  Car- 
itas  who,  with 
one  child  in  her 
arms,  is  stoop- 
ing down  to  a 
second  one, 
merely  bending 
her  knee,  in 
order  to  pre- 
serve her  equi- 
librium. There 
is  a  similar 
group  on  the 
ceiling  of  the 
Heliodorus 
Stanza,  in  the 
picture  of  Noah. 
The  Justitia  is 
clearly  sug- 
gested by  San- 
sovino's  similar  figure  in  Rome  (S.  Maria  del  Popolo). 
One  foot,  however,  is  raised,  to  obtain  more  move- 
ment.1 The  figure  reappears  in  the  Madonna  delle 
A  rpie. 

1  Quattrocentist  taste  demanded  that  the  sword  should  be  held 
upwards,  Cinquecentist  that  it  should  be  lowered.  Sansovino 
here  represents  the  old,  Sarto  the  new  style.    The  same  remark 


Justice,  by  A.  Sansovino. 


Andrea  del  Sarto  253 


3. — Madonnas  and  Saints 

The  abatement  of  earnestness  of  conception  and 
execution,  which  is  perceptible  in  the  Scalzi  frescoes 
from  about  the  year  1523  onwards,  does  not  mean  that 
the  artist  was  wearied  of  that  particular  task,  for  the 
same  Symptoms  are  found  in  his  easel  pictures  of  the 
same  date.  Andrea  became  careless,  stereotyped, 
confident  in  the  splendid  resources  of  his  art.  His 
works,  even  where  he  makes  an  obvious  effort,  no 
longer  show  traces  of  enthusiasm.  The  biographer 
will  tell  us  why  this  came  about.  His  youthful  works 
do  not  lead  us  to  foresee  any  such  development.  No 
better  example  can  be  found  to  show  what  spirit 
originally  animated  him,  than  the  large  picture  of  the 
Annunciation  in  the  Pitti  Palace,  which  Andrea  must 
have  painted  in  his  25th  or  26th  year. 

The  Mary  is  noble  and  'severe,  as  Albertinelli 
painted  her,  but  the  movement  shows  more  delicacy 
of  feeling.  The  angel  is  as  beautiful  as  Leonardo 
could  have  made  him,  with  all  the  charm  of  youthful 
raptfrre  in  the  bowed  and  slightly  inclined  head.  He 
utters  his  greeting,  stretching  out  his  arm  towards  the 
astonished  Mary,  while  he  bends  his  knee.  It  is  a 
reverent  salutation  from  a  distance,  not  the  impetuous 
entrance  of  a  schoolgirl,  as  with  Ghirlandajo  or 
Lorenzo  di  Credi.  The  angel  comes  on  clouds,  for 
the  first  time  since  the  Gothic  century.  The  miracu- 
lous is  once  more  allowed  in  sacred  pictures.  The 

may  be  made  of  St.  Paul  with  his  sword.  A  colossal  statue,  like 
that  of  St.  Paul  by  P.  Romano  on  the  bridge  of  St.  Angelo,  still 
represents  the  old  type. 


254       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

strain  of  rapture  which  has  been  struck  is  taken  up 
and  continued  in  two  attendant  angels  with  curling 
hair  and  softly  shadowed  eyes. 

Contrary  to  traditional  arrangement,  Mary  stands 


The  Annunciation,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


to  the  left,  and  the  angel  comes  from  the  right.  An- 
drea perhaps  was  anxious  that  the  outstretched  arm 
should  not  cover  the  body.  It  is  this  that  gives  the 
figure  its  perfect  and  expressive  clarity.  The  arm  is 
nude,  as  are  also  the  legs  of  the  accompanying  angels, 
and  the  draughtsmanship  certainly  betrays  the  teach- 
ing of  Michelangelo.    The  manner  in  which  the  left 


Andrea  del  Sarto  255 


hand  holds  the  stalk  of  the  lily  is  quite  Michelangel- 
esque.  The  picture  is  not  entirely  free  from  distract- 
ing detail,  but  the  architecture  of  the  background  is 
excellent  of  its  kind  and  very  novel.  It  gives  force  and 
cohesion  to  the  figures.  The  lines  of  the  landscape 
also  harmonise  with  the  principal  action. 

The  Pitti  Palace  contains  a  second  Annunciation, 
of  Andrea's  later  period  (1528),  originally  painted  in 
a  lunette,  and  now  made  into  a  square  picture.  It  is 
a  complete  illustration  of  the  difference  between  his 
early  and  his  final  manner.  Far  superior  to  the  first 
in  its  picturesque  bravura,  this  second  representation 
shows  an  emptiness  of  expression,  not  to  be  disguised 
by  all  the  charm  of  the  treatment  of  atmosphere  and 
drapery. 1 

In  the  Madonna  delle  Arpie,  Mary  appears  as  the 
mature  woman  and  Andrea  as  the  mature  artist. 
This  is  the  most  regal  Madonna  in  Florence,  queenly 
in  her  appearance,  and  conscious  of  her  dignity,  very 
different  to  Raphael's  Sistine  Madonna,  who  is  utterly 
self -forgetful.  She  stands  statuesquely  on  a  pedestal, 
looking  down.  The  Child  hangs  on  her  neck,  and  she 
supports  the  heavy  weight  lightly  on  one  arm.  The 
other  is  stretched  downwards  and  holds  a  book  resting 

1  The  pictures  are  confounded  in  the  Cicerone,  and  a  third 
Annunciation  in  the  Pitti  Palace  may  be  set  aside  altogether. 
The  dubious  painting  (an  Annunciation  with  two  attendant 
saints)  is — as  regards  the  figure  of  Mary — only  a  repetition  of 
the  figure  of  1528,  and  is  clearly  by  an  inferior  hand.  Other 
motives  have  been  taken  from  different  sources.  The  notice 
in  Vasari,  V.  17  (note  2),  is  obviously  an  error:  the  work  cannot 
belong  to  the  period  of  15 14. 


256      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


on  her  thigh.  This  again  is  a  motive  of  the  monu- 
mental style.  There  is  nothing  motherly  or  intimate, 
no  genre-like  toying  with  the  book;  merely  the  ideal 


The  Madonna  delle  Arpie,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 

pose.  She  can  never  have  read  or  wished  to  read 
thus.  The  way  in  which  the  hand  is  outspread  over 
the  edges  of  the  book  is  a  remarkably  fine  example  of 
the  grand  gestures  of  the  Cinquecento. 1 

The  companion  figures,  St.  Francis  and  St.  John  the 

x  On  the  model  of  the  Peter  in  Raphael's  Madonna  del  Bal- 
dacchino. 


Andrea  del  Sarto  257 


Evangelist,  both  rich  in  movement,  are  made  sub- 
ordinate to  the  Madonna  by  appearing  only  in  profile. 
The  figures,  brought  closely  together,  form  one  com- 


Disputa,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


plex  whole.  The  suggestive  group  acquires  fresh 
force  from  the  conditions  of  space  in  the  picture ;  there 
is  not  an  inch  of  superfluous  room,  the  figures  actually 
touch  the  frame.  Yet,  strangely  enough,  no  feeling 
of  contraction  is  produced.  One  of  the  counteract- 
ing causes  is  the  upward  spring  of  the  two  pilasters. 

17 


258       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  pictorial  richness  of  the  presentation  equals  its 
plastic  force.  Andrea  tries  to  entice  the  eye  from  the 
silhouettes  on  which  it  might  dwell,  and,  in  place  of  the 
connected  line,  offers  it  isolated  brilliant  contours. 
Here  and  there  an  illuminated  part  gleams  out  of  the 
dim  light,  only  to  disappear  once  more  in  the  shadow. 
The  uniformly  bright  expansion  of  the  contours  in  the 
light  is  discontinued.  The  eye  is  continually  passing 
with  pleasure  from  one  point  to  another,  and  the  re- 
sult is  a  living,  tactile  quality  in  the  figures,  far  sur- 
passing all  preceding  splendours  of  modelling  on  the 
flat. 

A  still  higher  pictorial  stage  is  marked  by  the 
picture  of  the  Disputa  in  the  Pitti  Palace.  Four  men 
standing,  engaged  in  conversation.  We  are  involun- 
tarily reminded  of  Nanni  di  Banco's  group  in  Or  San 
Michele.  Here,  however,  we  have  no  mere  indif- 
ferent Quattrocentist  gathering,  but  a  real  argument 
in  which  the  roles  are  distinctly  distributed.  The 
Bishop  (Augustine?)  is  speaking,  and  the  person 
addressed  is  Peter  Martyr,  the  Dominican,  a  refined 
intellectual  head,  in  comparison  with  which  all 
Bartolommeo's  types  seem  coarse.  He  is  listening 
intently.  St.  Francis,  on  the  contrary,  lays  his  hand 
on  his  heart  and  shakes  his  head:  he  is  no  dialectician. 
St.  Lawrence,  as  the  youngest,  refrains  from  any  ex- 
pression of  opinion.  He  is  the  neutral  foil,  and  plays 
the  same  part  here  as  the  Magdalen  in  Raphael's 
picture  of  St.  Cecilia;  like  hers,  his  figure  makes  a 
strongly  accentuated  vertical  line. 

The  stiffness  of  a  group  of  four  standing  figures  is 
lessened  by  the  addition  of  two  kneeling  figures  in  the 


Andrea  del  Sarto  259 


foreground  (a  little  lower  down).  These  are  St. 
Sebastian  and  the  Magdalen,  who  take  no  part  in  the 
discussion,  but,  in  compensation,  form  the  richest 
colour-passages  of  the  composition.  Sarto  gives  them 
bright  flesh-tints,  while  the  men  are  in  a  sober  key, 
chiefly  grey,  black,  and  brown,  with  a  passage  of  sub- 
dued carmine  quite  in  the  background  (in  the  figure 
of  St.  Lawrence).    The  background  is  dark. 

In  colour  and  drawing  this  picture  marks  the  zenith 
of  Andrea's  art.  The  nude  back  of  the  Sebastian  and 
the  upturned  head  of  the  Magdalen  are  marvellous 
interpretations  of  human  form.  And  then  the  hands! 
How  feminine  is  their  delicate  clasp  in  the  Magdalen, 
and  how  expressive  their  form  in  the  disputants! 
It  may  be  said  that  no  artist  has  drawn  hands  with 
such  skill  as  Andrea,  if  we  except  Leonardo. 

There  is  a  second  picture  of  four  standing  figures 
in  the  Academy,  which  was  painted  some  ten  years 
later  (1528),  and  indicates  the  development  and  the 
decay  of  Andrea's  style.  It  is  bright  in  tone,  like  all 
his  later  work;  the  heads  are  loosely  modelled,  but 
the  grouping  and  treatment  of  the  figures  are  marked 
by  all  Andrea's  skill  and  brilliance. 1  We  see  how 
easy  it  was  for  him  to  produce  compositions  so  rich  in 
effect,  but  the  impression  produced  is  purely  superficial. 

The  Madonna  delle  Arpie  had  no  worthy  successor. 
The  theme,  which  had  recently  become  fashionable,  of 
the  Madonna  in  a  nimbus  or  rather  in  clouds,  must 
have  been  peculiarly  well  adapted  to  Andrea's  taste. 
He  opened  the  heavens,  and  let  an  intense  brilliance 

1  There  were  originally  two  putti  in  the  centre,  which  have 
been  taken  out,  and  hung  separately, 


26o      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


appear,  and,  in  accordance  with  the  style  of  the  day, 
brought  the  Madonna  low  down  on  her  clouds,  into 
the  middle  of  a  band  of  encircling  saints.  The 


The  Madonna  with  six  Saints  (1524),  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


variations  on  standing  and  kneeling  figures,  and  the 
systematic  employment  of  contrasts  between  turning 
outwards  or  inwards,  of  looking  up  or  down,  etc.,  are 
more  or  less  matters  of  course,  but  Sarto  adds  to 
this  the  contrasts  of  bright  and  dark  heads,  and  in  the 


Andrea  del  Sarto  261 


distribution  of  these  accents  no  respect  is  paid 
to  the  source  of  the  light  and  shadow.  A  general 
strongly  marked  undulation  in  the  picture  is  kept 
in  view  throughout.  We  soon  perceive  that  the 
effects  are  won  by  a  somewhat  stereotyped  receipt, 
but  there  is  undeniably  a  certain  inevitability  in  the 
impression  produced,  which  springs  from  Andrea's 
own  temperament. 

Let  us  instance,  as  an  example,  the  Madonna  of 
1524  (Pitti).  We  must  not  look  for  character;  the 
Madonna  is  indeed  absolutely  commonplace.  The 
two  kneeling  figures  are  repeated  from  the  picture  of 
the  Disputa,  with  the  characteristic  additions  of  the 
more  practised  hand.  The  St.  Sebastian  may  have 
been  painted  from  the  same  model  as  the  well-known 
half-length  of  the  youthful  St.  John  (See  p.  265). 
Here  the  master's  taste  has  led  him  so  to  treat  the 
contour  that  it  is  comparatively  meaningless ;  all  the 
expression  is  given  to  the  bright  expanse  of  the  bare 
breast. 

Finally  all  his  powers  are  exhibited  in  the  great 
Berlin  picture  of  1528.  The  clouds  are  here  enclosed 
in  a  well-defined  architectonic  framework,  just  as  they 
appear  in  Bartolommeo's  pictures.  Then  there  is  a 
niche,  intersected  by  the  frame;  and  we  have  the 
motive  of  the  staircase,  with  the  saints  on  the  steps, 
who  could  thus  be  strongly  differentiated  by  their 
position  in  the  space.  The  foremost  figures  appear 
only  as  half-lengths,  a  motive  which  high  art  had 
hitherto  intentionally  avoided. 

Of  the  Holy  Families  we  may  say  what  has  already 
been  said  of  Raphael's  versions  of  this  theme.  An- 


262       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


drea's  artistic  aim  also  was  to  produce  rich  effects  in  a 
small  space.  He  makes  his  figures  stoop  and  kneel, 
thus  bringing  them  close  to  the  bottom  of  the  picture, 
and  making  knots  of  three,  four,  and  five  persons. 
The  ground  is  usually  black.  There  is  a  series  of 
pictures  of  the  kind.  The  best  are  those  where  the 
spectator  is  first  impressed  by  the  naturalness  of  the 
gestures,  and  afterwards  thinks  of  the  problems  of 
form.  .  The  Madonna  del  Sacco  of  1524  (Cloisters  of 
the  Annunziata,  Florence)  holds  a  special  position,  even 
compared  with  the  works  of  Raphael.  This  picture 
is  a  splendid  example  of  tender  and  accomplished 
fresco- work  in  general,  and  of  picturesque  effects 
of  drapery  in  particular.  It  has  the  further  merit  of  a 
boldness  of  design  in  the  arrangement  of  the  figures 
never  again  achieved  by  the  master.  Mary  is  not 
sitting  in  the  middle  of  the  picture,  but  to  one  side. 
The  balance  of  the  composition  is  restored  by  the 
Joseph  opposite.  Being  farther  in  the  background  he 
appears  smaller  as  a  mass,  but  owing  to  his  greater 
distance  from  the  central  axis  of  the  picture  he  has  an 
equal  value  in  its  equilibrium.  A  few  clear  general 
indications  of  direction  ensure  a  monumental  effect 
at  a  distance.  Very  simple  outlines  are  combined 
with  great  richness  of  content.  The  magnificent 
breadth  of  the  motive  of  the  Madonna  is  due  to  the 
low  position  in  which  she  is  seated.  Her  upturned 
head  will  never  fail  to  impress,  even  if  we  feel  the  im- 
pression to  be  superficial.  The  point  of  sight  is  low, 
corresponding  to  the  actual  position  of  the  fresco, 
which  is  over  a  door. 

Among  Andrea's  single  figures  of  saints,  the  youth- 


264      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ful  John  the  Baptist  in  the  Pitti  is  world-famed. 
It  is  one  of  the  half-dozen  pictures  which  are  invari- 
ably to  be  found  in  the  windows  of  the  photograph- 
sellers  during  the  tourist-season  in  Italy.  It  might 
not  be  uninteresting  to  ask  how  long  it  has  held 
this  position,  and  to  what  fluctuations  of  fashion 
these  recognised  favourites  of  the  public  are  liable. 
The  strenuous,  impassioned  beauty,  for  which  it  is 
praised  (Cicerone) ,  evaporates  at  once  when  it  is  com- 
pared with  Raphael's  boyish  St.  John  in  the  Tribuna. 
But  it  must  be  admitted  to  be  the  presentment  of  a 
handsome  lad. 1  The  picture  unfortunately  has  been 
much  damaged,  and  we  can  only  guess  at  the  intended 
pictorial  effect  of  the  flesh-tints  emerging  from  the 
dark  background.  The  grip  of  the  hand  with  the  turn 
of  the  wrist  is  in  Andrea's  best  manner.  A  characteris- 
tic point  is  the  way  in  which  he  interrupts  the  outline, 
and  allows  one  side  of  the  body  to  disappear  com- 
pletely. The  bunch  of  drapery,  which  was  intended 
to  suggest  a  contrast  in  direction  to  the  dominating 
vertical  line,  foreshadows  the  extravagance  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  It  may  be  compared  with 
Sebastiano's  Violin-Player  as  regards  the  shifting  of 
the  figure  to  one  side  and  the  empty  space  to  the  right. 

This  St.  John  has  a  companion  picture  in  the  seated 
figure  of  St.  Agnes  in  the  cathedral  of  Pisa,  one  of  the 
most  charming  works  of  the  master,  in  which  he  seems 
for  once  to  have  approached  the  expression  of  the 
ecstatic,  though  the  actual  result  is  merely  a  half- 

1  Sarto  used  the  same  model  for  the  Isaac  of  his  Abraham's 
Sacrifice  (Dresden),  which  was  painted  soon  after  1520.  I  think 
he  is  to  be  recognised  also  in  the  Madonna  of  1524. 


Andrea  del  Sarto  265 


timid  upward  glance.  Those  highest  realms  of  in- 
spiration were  quite  beyond  his  reach,  and  it  was  a 
mistake  to  entrust  such  a  subject  as  the  Assumption 
to  him.  He  painted  it  twice,  and  the  pictures  hang  in 
the  Pitti.  As 
might  have  been 
foreseen,  neither 
expression  nor 
movement  is 
adequate.  What 
can  we  think 
when ,  after 
1520,  we  find 
the  Virgin  of  the 
Assumption  de- 
picted  as  a 
seated  figure! 
Even  so,  how- 
ever, some  more 
suitable  solu- 
tion might  have 
been  found . 
But  Sarto's  ren- 
dering of  prayer 
is  as  meaning- 
less as  the  ludicrous  look  of  embarrassment  with 
which  Mary  grasps  the  mantle  on  her  lap.  He  has 
twice  made  St.  John  the  chief  figure  of  the  Apostles 
round  the  grave,  and  given  him  that  delicate  move- 
ment of  the  hands  which  is  found  in  his  youthful 
pictures.  It  is  impossible,  however,  to  shake  off 
entirely  the  impression  of  conscious  elegance,  and  the 


St.  John  the  Baptist,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


266       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


excitement  of  the  astonished  Apostles  is  never  very  in- 
tense. Yet,  after  all,  this  placidity  is  far  pleasant ei; 
than  the  noisiness  of  the  Roman  school  among  the 
followers  of  Raphael. 

The  illumination  is  so  contrived  that  the  brilliancy 
of  Heaven  should  find  a  contrast  in  the  darkness  of  the 
scene  on  earth.  In  the  second  and  later  picture,  how- 
ever, he  left  a  bright  rift  open  from  the  very  bottom, 
and  a  greater  master  of  movement,  Rubens,  followed 
him  in  this,  for  it  is  inadvisable  to  bisect  a  picture  of 
the  Assumption  with  so  strongly  defined  a  horizontal 
line. 

The  two  kneeling  saints  in  the  first  Assumption 
are  derived  from  Fra  Bartolommeo.  In  the  second 
version  the  motive  of  the  three-quarter  length  figures 
in  the  foreground  was  retained,  and  for  the  sake  of  a 
contrast,  a  certain  petty  detail  was  again  admitted: 
one  of  the  men,  here  an  Apostle,  looks  out  of  the 
picture  at  the  spectator  during  the  solemn  scene. 
This  is  the  beginning  of  the  unconcerned  figures  in  the 
foregrounds  of  the  Scientists.  The  forms  of  art  had 
already  been  misused  as  meaningless  formulae. 

We  need  say  nothing  about  the  Pieta  in  the  Pitti 
Palace. 

4. — A  Portrait  of  Andrea 

Andrea  did  not  paint  many  portraits,  and  he  would 
not  prima  facie  be  credited  with  any  special  quali- 
fications for  the  task,  but  there  are  some  youthful 
male  portraits  by  him  which  attract  the  spectator  by 
a  mysterious  charm.    These  are  the  two  well-known 


Andrea  del  Sarto 


267 


heads  in  the  Uffizi  and  the  Pitti,  and  the  half-length 
figure  in  the  National  Gallery,  London.  They  show 
all  the  nobility  of  Andrea's  best  manner,  and  we  feel 
that  the  painter  has  expressed  himself  here  with 
peculiar  significance.  It  is  not  surprising  that  they 
have  passed  for  portraits  of  himself.  But  it  may  be 
definitely  said  that  they  cannot  be  such.  The  case  is 
identical  with  that  of  Hans  Holbein  the  younger, 
where  a  prejudice,  hard  to  eradicate,  was  early  formed 
in  favour  of  the  handsome  unknown. 

A  genuine  portrait  is  extant  (a  drawing  in  the  col- 
lection of  portraits  of  painters  in  Florence),  but  there  is 
a  reluctance  to  draw  the  obvious  conclusion  that  it  ex- 
cludes others,  because  the  idea  of  the  more  beautiful 
type  is  reluctantly  abandoned.  The  genuine  portrait 
of  the  youthful  Andrea  is  found  in  the  fresco  of  the 
Procession  of  the  Kings  in  the  court  of  the  Annunziata, 
and  his  likeness  as  an  older  man  is  in  the  collection  of 
Painters'  Portraits  (Uffizi).  They  can  be  positively 
identified;  Vasari  speaks  of  both.  The  pictures  men- 
tioned above  are  irreconcilable  with  these,  in  fact  they 
do  not  seem  to  agree  with  each  other ;  the  London 
example  and  the  Florentine  pictures  might  well  re- 
present a  different  man.  The  two  latter  may  be  re- 
duced to  one,  since  they  correspond  line  for  line,  to  the 
Very  details  of  the  folds.  The  example  in  the  Uffizi 
is  clearly  the  copy,  and  the  original  is  the  picture  in  the 
Pitti,  which,  although  not  intact,  shows  more  delicate 
workmanship. 1    We  shall  only  speak  of  this  one. 

1  The  Cicerone  holds  a  contrary  opinion:  "The  finest  (pro- 
bably his  own  portrait)  is  in  the  Uffizi  (No.  1147);  there  is  a 
replica,  of  inferior  merit,  in  the  Pitti  (No.  66)."    In  the  post- 


268       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  head  stands  out  from  a  dark  background.  It  is 
not  sharply  relieved  against  a  black  surface,  as  is 
sometimes  the  case  in  Perugino's  portraits,  but  re- 
mains almost  modestly  in  the  greenish  shadow.  The 
strongest  light  does  not  fall  on  the  face,  but  on  a  scrap 
of  shirt  accidentally  displayed  at  the  neck.  The 
hood  and  collar  are  neutral  in  tint,  grey  and  brown. 
The  large  eyes  look  calmly  out  of  their  orbits.  With 
all  its  quivering  pictorial  vitality,  the  form  gains 
absolute  firmness  by  the  vertical  line  of  the  head,  the 
full-face  view,  and  the  quiet  application  of  light, 
which  relieves  one  half  of  the  head,  and  illuminates 
exactly  the  necessary  points.  The  head  seems  to  have 
suddenly  turned  round  and  to  have  presented  for  a 
moment  the  view,  in  which  the  vertical  and  horizontal 
axes  are  seen  in  absolute  purity.  The  vertical  line 
passes  right  up  to  the  peak  of  the  cap.  The  simpli- 
city of  the  line,  and  the  repose  given  by  the  great 
masses  of  light  and  shade,  are  combined  with  that 
clear  definition  of  form  characteristic  of  Andrea's 
mature  style.  A  firm  touch  is  everywhere  distinguish- 
able. The  way  in  which  the  angle  between  the  eye 
and  nose  is  brought  out,  in  which  the  chin  is  modelled, 
and  the  cheek-bone  indicated,  recalls  the  style  of  the 
Disputa,  which  was  obviously  painted  at  the  same 
period.1 

humous  Beitrage  zur  Kunstgeschichte  von  Italien,  J.  Burckhardt 
protested  for  the  first  time  against  the  presumption  that  the 
pictures  are  portraits  of  the  painter  himself. 

1  This  portrait  cannot  possibly  be  one  of  the  painter  by  him- 
self, for  when  he  painted  in  this  style  he  was  no  longer  the  young 
man  here  represented. 


Supposed  Portrait  of  Himself,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


269 


270       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


This  delicate  and  intellectual  head  may  fairly  be 
considered  an  ideal  example  of  sixteenth-century  con- 
ceptions. One  would  be  glad  to  include  it  and  the 
Violin-Player j  to  which  it  bears  an  intrinsic  and  ex- 
trinsic affinity,  in  the  series  of  Artists'  Portraits.  In 
any  case  it  is  one  of  the  finest  examples  of  those  lofty 
conceptions  of  the  human  form  in  the  Cinquecento, 
whose  common  inception  is  to  be  traced  to  Michel- 
angelo. The  impression  of  the  genius  which  created 
the  Delphic  Sibyl  is  unmistakable  here. 

The  meditative  youth  in  the  Salon  Carre  of  the 
Louvre  may  be  mentioned  as  a  more  Leonardesque 
pendant  to  this  portrait  of  Andrea's.  This  fine 
picture  has  borne  the  most  various  names,  but  is  now 
rightly,  in  my  opinion,  ascribed  to  Franciabigio,  as  is 
also  the  dark  head  of  a  youth  (of  1514)  in  the  Pitti 
Palace,  whose  left  hand  rests  on  the  balustrade  with  a 
somewhat  antiquated  gesture.1  The  Paris  picture 
was  painted  later  than  this  (about  1520),  and  the  last 
traces  of  stiffness  or  embarrassment  have  disappeared. 
The  young  man,  whose  soul  is  stirred  by  some  sorrow, 
gazes  before  him  with  downcast  eyes.  The  slight 
turn  and  inclination  of  the  head  have  an  extraor- 
dinarily characteristic  effect.  One  arm  rests  on  a 
balustrade,  and  the  right  hand  is  laid  on  it.  This 
action  again  has  something  personal  in  its  gentleness. 
The  motive  is  not  dissimilar  to  that  of  the  Mona  Lisa. 
Here,   however,   everything  resolves  itself  into  a 

1  The  movement  of  the  hand  reappears  in  the  chief  figure 
of  Franciabigio's  Last  Supper  (Calza,  Florence),  and  might,  in 
the  last  instance,  be  traced  back  to  the  Christ  in  Leonardo's 
Cenacolo,  which  was  known  and  used  by  Franciabigio. 


271 


272      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

momentary  expression,  and  the  imposing  portrait  be- 
comes an  emotional  study  with  all  the  charm  of  a 
genre  painting.  The  spectator  does  not  at  once  ask 
who  the  sitter  is,  but  is  interested  above  all  in 
the  emotion  depicted.  The  deep  shadow  that  veils 
the  eyes  serves  in  particular  to  characterise  the 
pensive  dreamer.  The  distant  horizon  is  also  an 
expressive  factor.  The  only  disturbing  effect  is  pro- 
duced by  the  space,  which  has  been  enlarged  on  each 
side.  Our  reproduction  attempts  to  restore  the 
original  look  of  the  picture. 

Peculiarly  modern  tones  echo  from  this  dreamy 
work.  It  is  conceived  with  far  greater  delicacy  than 
Raphael's  youthful  portrait  of  himself.  The  senti- 
ment of  the  fifteenth  century  always  seems  somewhat 
obtrusive  when  compared  with  the  restrained  ex- 
pression of  emotion  in  the  classical  age. 


VII 


MICHELANGELO  (after  1520) 
1475-1564 

None  of  the  great  artists  exercised  from  the  very- 
first  so  profound  an  influence  on  his  contemporaries 
as  Michelangelo,  and  fate  willed  that  this  mightiest 
and  most  original  genius  should  also  enjoy  unusual 
length  of  life.  He  remained  at  work  almost  a  genera- 
ration  after  all  his  contemporaries  had  sunk  into  the 
grave.  Raphael  died  in  1520,  Leonardo  and  Barto- 
lommeo  even  earlier.  Sarto  lived  until  1531 ,  but  his 
last  decade  was  the  least  important  of  his  career, 
and  we  see  no  sign  of  his  having  had  yet  a  further  stage 
of  development  before  him.  Michelangelo  never  was 
stationary  for  a  moment,  and  does  not  seem  to  have 
concentrated  his  powers  fully  till  the  second  hal.  of 
his  life.  Then  he  gave  the  world  the  Tombs  of  the 
Medici,  the  Last  Judgment,  and  St.  Peter's.  Hence- 
forth one  art  only  existed  for  Central  Italy,  and 
Leonardo  and  Raphael  were  completely  forgotten 
in  the  new  revelations  of  Michelangelo. 

1. — The  Chapel  of  the  Medici 

The  memorial  chapel  of  S.  Lorenzo  is  one  of  the 
rare  instances  in  the  history  of  art  in  which  building 
and  figures  were  created  not  only  contemporaneously, 
18  273 


274       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


but  with  a  definite  regard  one  for  the  other.  The 
whole  fifteenth  century  was  disposed  to  regard  things 
apart  from  their  surroundings,  and  found  beauty  in 
the  beautiful  object  wherever  it  might  be  placed. 
In  magnificent  buildings,  such  as  the  memorial  chapel 
of  the  Cardinal  of  Portugal  at  S.  Miniato,  the  tomb 
is  an  erection  which  happens  to  be  placed  there,  but 
which  might  just  as  well  have  been  anywhere  else, 
without  detriment  to  its  effect.  Even  in  the  pro- 
posed tomb  of  Julius,  Michelangelo  would  have  had 
no  control  over  the  surroundings ;  it  was  to  have  been 
a  building  inside  a  building.  But  the  proposition 
that  he  should  build  a  fagade  to  S.  Lorenzo  as  an 
architectural  and  plastic  monument  to  the  Medici 
in  their  family  church  at  Florence  offered  the  possi- 
bility of  combining  figures  and  architecture  on  a 
large  scale,  with  a  definite  calculation  of  effect.  The 
plan  fell  through.  Though  the  architecture  would 
only  have  been  the  frame,  it  was  artistically  more 
desirable  that  the  new  scheme  for  the  chapel  should 
not  only  afford  space  for  a  more  liberal  use  of 
sculpture,  but  should  put  the  lighting  entirely  into 
the  hands  of  the  artist.  Michelangelo  indeed  ac- 
cepted it  as  an  important  factor  in  his  scheme.  In  his 
figures  of  Night  and  of  the  Penseroso  he  contrived  that 
the  features  should  be  entirely  in  shadow,  an  effect 
unprecedented  in  sculpture. 

The  chapel  contains  the  monuments  of  two  members 
of  the  family  who  died  in  youth,  Duke  Lorenzo  of 
Urbino  and  Giuliano,  Duke  of  Nemours.  An  earlier 
plan,  which  aimed  at  a  more  extensive  representation 
of  the  family  had  been  abandoned. 


Michelangelo 


275 


The  scheme  of  the  tombs  is  based  on  the  grouping 
of  three  figures:  the  deceased,  not  sleeping,  but  a 
living,  seated  figure,  and,  on  the  sloping  lids  of  each 
sarcophagus,  two  recumbent' figures  in  attendance. 
In  this  case  Night  and  Day  were  chosen  in  place  of  the 
Virtues,  out  of  which  it  was  usual  to  form  a  guard  of 
honour  for  the  dead. 

A  peculiar  feature  in  this  arrangement  is  imme- 
diately noticeable.  The  tomb  does  not  consist  of  an 
architectural  design  with  figures,  placed  against  the 
wall.  The  sarcophagus  alone,  with  its  crowning 
figures,  stands  free;  the  hero  is  seated  in  the  wall 
itself.  Two  elements  of  space,  quite  distinct,  are 
combined  to  produce  a  united  effect,  and  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  seated  figure  is  brought  down  as  low 
as  the  heads  of  the  recumbent  figures. 

These  latter  bear  the  strangest  relation  to  their 
supporting  surfaces.  The  lids  of  the  sarcophagi  are 
so  narrow  and  so  steep  that  the  figures  seem  doomed 
to  slip  down.  It  has  been  conjectured  that  the  lids 
were  perhaps  intended  to  be  completed  by  terminal 
volutes,  rising  from  the  ends,  which  would  have  given 
the  figures  support  and  security.  This  was  actually 
done  in  the  Tomb  of  Paul  III.  in  St.  Peter's,  a  monu- 
ment inspired  by  Michelangelo.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  asserted  that  the  figures  would  be  prejudiced  by 
such  additions,  that  they  would  become  tame,  and 
lose  the  elasticity  which  they  now  exhibit.  It  is,  in 
any  case,  probable  that  so  unusual  an  arrangement, 
which  challenges  the  criticism  of  every  amateur, 
must  be  due  to  an  author  who  could  afford  to 
run  risks.    In  my  opinion   it  was  Michelangelo's 


276       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

deliberate  intention  to  leave  the  monument  in  its 
present  state.1 

The  manner  in  which  the  figures  are  supported  is 


The  Tomb  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  with  the  figures 
of  Morning  and  Evening,  by  Michelangelo. 


not  the  only  jarring  element;  higher  up  there  are  dis- 
cords, almost  incomprehensible  at  first  sight.  The 

1  There  is  also  a  direct  proof  of  this.  In  a  drawing  in  the 
British  Museum,  published  by  Symonds  {Life  of  Michelangelo, 
i.,  384),  there  is  a  figure  on  a  similarly  constructed  lid.  It  is 
drawn  hastily,  but  is  quite  distinct. 


Michelangelo 


277 


figures  are  allowed  to  cut  the  line  of  the  cornice  of  the 
stylobate  behind  with  an  unprecedented  recklessness. 
Here  the  sculpture  is  clearly  at  war  with  its  lord  and 
master,  architecture.  This  antagonism  would  be 
unendurable,  if  it  did  not  find  some  mitigation.  This 
is  afforded  by  the  third  and  concluding  figure,  in  its 
perfect  union  with  its  niche.  The  scheme,  therefore, 
was  not  only  to  build  up  a  triangular  structure  with 
the  figures,  but  to  develop  the  figures  in  their  relation 
to  the  architecture.  In  Sansovino's  work  everything 
appears  uniformly  hushed  and  concealed  within  the 
space  of  the  niches,  but  here  we  are  met  by  a  discord 
which  has  to  be  resolved.  The  principle  is  identical 
with  that  adopted  by  Michelangelo  in  his  last  plan 
for  the  tomb  of  Julius,  when  the  compression  of  the 
central  figure  is  disguised  by  the  spacious  adjoining 
compartments.  He  further  employed  these  new 
artistic  effects  on  the  vastest  scale  in  the  exterior 
elevation  of  St.  Peters. 1 

The  niche  enshrines  the  general  closely :  there  is  no 
superfluous  space  to  weaken  the  effect.  It  is  very 
shallow,  so  that  the  statue  projects.  We  cannot  here 
discuss  the  further  working  of  the  master's  thought ; 
why,  for  instance,  the  central  niche  has  no  pediment 
and  the  accent  is  shifted  to  the  sides.  The  chief 
intention  of  the  architectonic  arrangement  was  to  set 
off  the  figures  by  means  of  a  variety  of  small  adjuncts, 
and  this  perhaps  was  also  the  justification  of  the  short 
lids  of  the  sarcophagus.  The  figures  resting  on  them 
are  colossal,  but  they  are  intended  to  produce  a  colos- 

1  Cf.  Wolfflin,  Renaissance  und  Barock,  p.  48. 


278       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


sal  effect.  Nowhere  in  the  world  does  sculpture  pro- 
duce a  more  powerful  impression  on  the  spectator. 
The  architecture,  with  its  slender  panels  and  its  spar- 
ing use  of  massive  motives,  is  entirely  subordinated  to 
the  effect  of  the  figures. 

We  might  almost  suppose  that  the  figures  were 
deliberately  made  disproportionately  large  for  the 
space.  One  remembers  how  hard  it  is  to  stand  at  the 
proper  distance  from  them  and  how  cramped  one  feels. 
And  then  we  read  that  four  more  figures  (recumbent 
river-gods)1  were  to  have  been  introduced.  The 
impression  would  have  been  overpowering.  These 
are  effects  which  have  nothing  in  common  with  the 
liberating  beauty  of  the  Renaissance. 

Michelangelo  was  not  permitted  to  finish  his  work 
unaided  (the  chapel,  as  is  well  known,  received  its 
present  form  from  Vasari),  but  we  may  assume  that 
we  have  before  us  the  main  features  of  his  plan. 

Some  portions  of  the  chapel  have  been  stained  dark, 
otherwise  it  is  completely  in  monochrome,  white  on 
white.  It  is  the  greatest  example  of  the  modern  dis- 
use of  colour  (achromatism) . 2 

The  recumbent  figures  of  Day  and  Night,  Morning 
and  Evening,  take  the  place  of  the  customary  Virtues. 
Later  artists  continued  to  make  use  of  the  latter  in  a 
similar  connection,  but  the  motives  of  Day  and  Night 
offered  possibilities  of  characteristic  movement  so 
much  greater  that  Michelangelo's  determination  is 

1  Michelangelo,  Lettere  (ed.  Milanesi),  152. 

2  If  paintings  ever  existed  in  this  chapel  they  were,  in  any  case 
merely  monochromes.  The  probability  seems  remote,  and  is 
not  supported  by  the  records. 


Michelangelo 


279 


sufficiently  explained.  The  first  consideration  was 
the  necessity  of  a  recumbent  motive,  by  which, 
in  combination  with  the  perpendicular  line  of  the 
seated  figure,  he  was  able  to  achieve  an  entirely  new 
configuration. 

The  ancients  had  their  river-gods,  and  a  comparison 
with  the  two  splendid  antique  figures,  for  which 
Michelangelo  himself  prepared  a  place  of  honour  on 
the  Capitol,  throws  an  instructive  light  on  his  style. 
He  enriches  the  plastic  motive  in  a  manner  that  leaves 
all  previous  achievements  far  behind.  The  turn  of 
the  body  in  Morning,  who  faces  the  spectator,  and  the 
way  in  which  the  upraised  knee  of  Night  cuts  the  out- 
line, are  incomparable.  The  figures  are  marvellously 
stimulating,  because  of  their  divergences  of  surface 
and  contrasts  of  direction.  Yet  in  spite  of  this  variety 
the  effect  is  full  of  repose.  The  strong  tendency  to- 
wards formlessness  encounters  a  stronger  desire  for 
form.  The  figures  are  not  only  clear  in  the  sense  that 
all  essential  clues  to  the  idea  are  furnished  and  that 
the  main  features  are  at  once  impressively  prominent, 1 
but  they  are  enclosed  by  very  simple  boundaries. 
They  are  enframed  and  stratified,  and  might  be 
considered  as  pure  reliefs.  The  Morning,  with  all 
her  movement,  is  strangely  panel-like  in  effect.  Her 
raised  left  arm  quietly  suggests  the  level  of  the  back- 
ground, and  everything  in  front  is  on  a  parallel  plane. 
Later  artists  learned  movement  from  Michelangelo 

1  In  the  Night  the  right  arm  seems  to  be  lost  to  view,  but  this  is 
only  apparent:  it  is  in  the  un worked  piece  of  marble  above  the 
mask. 


280      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


and  attempted  to  surpass 
him  in  it,  but  they  never 
comprehended  his  repose — 
Bernini  least  of  all. 

Recumbent   figures  give 
scope  for  very  striking  effects 
of    contraposition,   as  the 
limbs,  with  their  opposing 
movements,  can  be  brought 
closely   together.  But 
the  significance  of  these 
figures  is  not  confined 
to  the  problem  of  form 
they   offer;  physical 
phenomena  contrib- 
ute  strongly  to  the 
A  t/Tl      effect.   The  wearied 

*       v      l^^^^^^A      nian,    whose  limbs 
"  relax,  is  a  touching 

representation  of 
Evening,  which  seems 
also    to   typify  the 
evening   of  life, 
and  a  reluctant 
waking  was 
never  more  con- 
vincingly  de- 
picted than 
here. 

A  change  of  feeling  is  perceptible  in  all  these  figures. 
Michelangelo  no  longer  breathes  as  freely  and  gladly 
as  in  the  Sistine  Chapel.    All  his  movement  is  harsher, 


The  Medici  Madonna,  by  Michelangelo. 


Michelangelo  281 

stiff er,  more  abrupt.  His  bodies  are  ponderous  as 
mountain-boulders,  and  they  seem  to  obey  the  will 
reluctantly  and  unequally.  The  two  pairs  of  figures 
are  far  from  uniform  in  style.  Day  and  Night  were 
obviously  later  than  the  others.  The  force  of  the 
contrasts  is  accentuated  in  them,  and  they  conflict 
still  more  violently  with  the  architecture.  The  de- 
ceased appear  as  seated  figures.  These  tombs  do  not 
present  the  sleeping  image  of  the  dead,  but  are  me- 
morials of  the  living.  This  idea  had  been  anticipated 
by  Pollaiuolo  in  the  tomb  of  Innocent  VIII.  in  St. 
Peter's.  There,  however,  the  figure  of  the  Pope, 
giving  a  blessing,  does  not  appear  alone,  but  is  in- 
troduced together  with  the  recumbent  corpse. 

Michelangelo  had  to  deal  with  the  figures  of  two 
great  soldiers.  It  may  seem  surp\  ising  that  he  should 
haveselected  a  sitting  posture,  and  indeed  an  indolently 
sitting  posture,  in  which  there  is  much  individuality. 
The  one  figure  is  absorbed  in  meditation,  the  other 
casts  a  momentary  side-glance.  Neither  takes  an 
official  or  representative  pose.  The  conception  of 
distinction  had  changed  since  the  times  when  Verroc- 
chio  made  his  Colleoni,  and  the  type  of  the  seated 
general  was  afterwards  retained  for  the  statue  of  no 
less  a  commander  than  Giovanni  delle  Bande  Nere  (in 
the  Piazza  before  S.  Lorenzo).  The  treatment  of  the 
seated  figures  as  such  is  interesting  from  the  numerous 
earlier  solutions  of  the  problem  which  Michelangelo 
had  already  given.  The  one  resembles  the  Jeremiah 
of  the  Sistine  ceiling,  the  other  the  Moses.  In  both, 
however,  we  note  characteristic  alterations  all  tending 
to  increased  richness  of  effect.    In  the  Giuliano  (with 


282      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  marshal's  baton)  we  may  instance  the  differentia- 
tion of  the  knees  and  the  inequality  of  the  shoulders. 
Henceforth  these  models  formed  the  standard  by 
which  the  plastic  value  of  all  seated  figures  was  judged. 
There  was  soon  no  end  to  the  painful  efforts  made  to 


Crouching  Boy,  by  Michelangelo.         features.  Their 


ideal.  No  word  of  inscription  explains  the  monu- 
ment. This  may  have  been  in  deference  to  express 
orders,  for  the  tomb  of  Julius  again  bears  no  inscription. 

The  chapel  of  the  Medici  contains  a  seated  figure 
of  a  different  kind,  a  Madonna  with  the  Child.  This 
shows  the  mature  style  of  Michelangelo  in  its  most 
perfect  form,  and  is  all  the  more  valuable,  as  a  com- 
parison of  it  with  the  analogous  youthful  work,  the 
Madonna  of  Bruges,  elucidates  his  artistic  develop- 


arouse  interest 
by  twisting  a 
shoulder,  raising 
a  foot,  and 
turning  a  head, 
efforts  which 
necessarily  en- 
tailed the  loss 
of  any  spiritual 
meaning. 


Michelangelo 
made  no  at- 
tempt to  char- 
acterise  the 
deceased,  or  to 
portray  their 


costume  is  also 


Michelangelo 


283 


ment,  and  leaves  no  further  doubt  as  to  his  intentions. 
An  inquiry  into '  the  growth  of  the  Madonna  of  the 
Medici  out  of  the  Madonna  of  Bruges  would  be  a 
suitable  prelude  to  initiation  into  the  secret  of  Michel- 
angelo's development.  It  might  be  pointed  out  how 
the  simpler  possibilities  are  replaced  by  the  more  com- 
plicated. How,  for  example,  the  knees  are  no  longer 
close  together,  but  one  leg  crosses  the  other;  how  the 
arms  are  differentiated,  one  being  advanced,  and  the 
other  drawn  back,  so  that  the  two  shoulders  are  dis- 
tinct in  every  dimension ;  how  the  bust  is  bent  forward, 
and  the  head  turned  to  one  side;  how  the  Child  sits 
astride  on  His  mother's  knee,  His  figure  confronting 
the  spectator,  but  turns  His  head  back  and  feels  for 
her  breast.  This  motive  thoroughly  mastered,  there 
would  be  another  consideration:  why  is  the  effect  so 
full  of  repose,  in  spite  of  the  richness  of  the  action? 
The  first  quality,  variety,  is  easily  imitated,  but  the 
second,  unity,  is  very  difficult  to  achieve.  The  group 
appears  simple  because  it  is  clear  and  can  be  com- 
prehended at  a  glance,  and  its  effect  is  reposeful, 
because  its  whole  significance  is  brought  into  one 
compact  form.  The  original  block  of  marble  seems  to 
have  been  but  slightly  modified. 

Michelangelo  achieved  perhaps  the  highest  success 
of  this  kind  in  the  figure  of  the  boy  at  St.  Petersburg, 
who  is  crouching  down  and  tending  his  feet.1  The 
work  looks  like  the  solution  of  a  definite  problem. 
We  might  imagine  that  his  object  had  been  to  pro- 

1  Springer,  erroneously,  refers  him  to  the  tomb  of  Julius  and 
supposes  him  to  represent  a  conquered  foe.  Raphael  und  Michel- 
angelo,i\.,52>0- 


284      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


duce  the  most  varied  figure  possible  with  the  smallest 

amount  of  dis- 
turbance and 
disruption  of  the 
block.  It  is  thus 
that  Michelan- 
gelo would  have 
represented  the 
boy  extracting 
the  thorn.  It 
is  an  absolute 
cube,  but  full  of 
stimulating  mo- 
tives for  plastic 
representation. 

The  Christ  of 
the  Minerva  in 
Rome  shows 
how  a  standing 
figure  was  treat- 
ed at  this  epoch. 
This  statue, 
which  was  spoilt 
in  its  final  exe- 
cution, must  be 
termed  a  great 
work  in  concep- 
tion and  highly 
important  in  its 
1  consequences. 
Michelangelo  had  obviously  renounced  draped  figures ; 
he  therefore  represents  the  Christ  nude,  as  the  Risen 


mm  <  \ 


Christ,  by  Michelangelo. 


Michelangelo  285 

Lord,  giving  Him  in  place  of  the  banner  of  victory,  the 
cross  (and  with  it  the  reed  and  sponge) .  This  was  re- 
quired to  ensure  a  massive  effect.    The  cross  stands  on 


An  Allegory,  by  Bronzino. 


the  ground,  and  Christ  grasps  it  with  both  hands.  The 
immediate  result  is  the  important  motive  of  the  out- 
stretched arm,  which  crosses  the  breast.  It  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  the  idea  was  new,  and  that  in  the 
Bacchus,  for  example,  such  a  possibility  would  never 


286      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


have  been  entertained.  The  sweep  of  the  arm  is  in- 
tensified by  the  sharp  turn  of  the  head  in  the  opposite 
direction.  A  further  variation  is  brought  about  in 
the  hips,  by  drawing  back  the  left  leg,  while  the  breast 
is  turned  towards  the  right.  The  feet  are  planted 
one  behind  the  other.  The  figure  therefore  shows 
a  surprising  depth.  This  development  is,  however, 
only  effective  when  seen,  or  photographed,  in  its 
normal  aspect.  The  normal  aspect  is  that  in  which 
all  the  contrasts  are  simultaneously  effective. 1 

Michelangelo  entered  a  domain  presenting  still 
richer  possibilities  when  he  combined  standing  and 
kneeling  figures,  as  in  the  so-called  Victory  in  the 
Bargello.  This  is  not  a  pleasing  creation,  according 
to  our  taste,  but  it  had  a  peculiar  charm  for  his  dis- 
ciples, as  the  countless  imitations  of  the  motive  prove. 
We  may  pass  it  over  and  consider  the  last  plastic  ideas 
of  the  master,  the  different  designs  for  a  Pieta,  the 
richest  of  wh'ich,  a  composition  of  four  figures  (now 
in  the  cathedral  at  Florence)  was  destined  for  his  own 
tomb.2  The  feature  common  to  them  all  is  that  the 
body  of  the  dead  Christ  no  longer  lies  diagonally 
across  His  mother's  lap,  but  is  partly  upright,  and 
huddled  together  on  her  knees.  It  was  hardly  possi- 
ble to  get  a  beautiful  outline  with  such  a  figure,  nor 
did  Michelangelo  attempt  it.    The  last  thought  he 

1  Unfortunately  no  such  photograph  could  be  obtained  for 
reproduction  in  this  volume.  The  point  from  which  it  should  be 
taken  is  more  to  the  left. 

2  Besides  the  familiar  group  in  the  Palazzo  Rondanini  at 
Rome,  a  similar  sketch  in  the  Castle  of  Palestrina  might  also 
be  examined. 


Michelangelo 


287 


wished  to  express  with  his  chisel  was  the  shapeless 
collapse  of  a  heavy  mass.  Painting  appropriated  this 
scheme,  and  when  we  see  Bronzino's  version  of  such 
a  group,  with  its  harsh,  zigzag  lines,  and  offensive 
crowding  of  the  figures,  it  seems  hardly  credi- 
ble that  this  was  produced  by  the  generation 
which  succeeded  to  the  age  of  Raphael  and  Fra 
Bartolommeo. 

2. — The  Last  Judgment  and  the  Pauline  Chapel 

Michelangelo  certainly  did  not  enter  upon  the 
great  pictorial  tasks  of  his  extreme  old  age  with  the 
repugnance  with  which  he  had  painted  the  Sistine 
ceiling.  He  felt  the  need  of  luxuriating  in  masses. 
In  the  Last  Judgment  (1534-41)  he  enjoyed  the 
' 4 Promethean  happiness"  of  being  able  to  realise  all 
the  possibilities  of  movement,  position,  foreshortening, 
and  grouping  of  the  nude  human  form.  He  wished  to 
make  these  masses  stupendous  and  to  overwhelm  the 
spectator.  He  attained  his  purpose.  The  picture 
seems  too  large  for  the  chapel :  the  one  enormous  paint- 
ing extends  frameless  along  the  wall,  and  annihilates 
all  that  was  left  of  the  earlier  frescoes.  Michelangelo 
showed  no  respect  for  his  own  painting  on  the'ceiling. 
It  is  impossible  to  look  at  the  two  works  together 
without  feeling  the  harsh  discord.  The  arrangement 
is  in  itself  magnificent.  The  figure  of  Christ,  raised 
high  in  the  picture,  is  intensely  effective.  About  to 
spring  up,  He  seems  to  grow  as  the  eye  dwells  on  Him. 
Around  Him  is  an  awe-inspiring  throng  of  martyrs, 
calling  for  vengeance.    They  approach  in  ever-denser 


288      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


throngs :  their  forms  become  more  and  more  colossal — ■ 
the  scale  is  wilfully  altered— and  the  gigantic  figures 
combine  into  unprecedentedly  powerful  masses.  No 
individual  objects  are  now  emphasised;  nothing  is 
considered  but  the  grouping  of  masses.  The  figure 
of  Mary  is  attached  to  that  of  Christ,  just  as  in  archi- 
tecture a  single  pillar  is  strengthened  by  a  companion 
half  or  quarter  pillar. 

The  secondary  lines  are  two  diagonals,  which  meet 
in  the  Christ.  The  movement  of  His  hand  passes 
down  through  the  whole  picture  like  a  lightning- flash, 
not  dynamically,  but  as  an  optical  line,  and  this  line  is 
repeated  on  the  other  side.  It  would  not  have  been 
possible  to  give  any  emphasis  to  the  chief  figure  with- 
out this  symmetrical  arrangement. 

In  the  Pauline  Chapel,  on  the  other  hand,  where 
we  find  the  historical  pictures  of  Michelangelo's  last 
years  (Conversion  of  St.  Paul  and  Crucifixion  of  St. 
Peter),  all  symmetry  is  thrown  to  the  winds,  and  there 
is  once  more  a  growing  tendency  to  sacrifice  form. 
The  pictures  come  into  immediate  contact  with  the 
real  pillars,  and  half-length  figures  rise  from  the  lower 
border.  This  is  indeed  far  from  the  spirit  of  classic 
art.  There  is,  however,  no  senile  feebleness.  Michel- 
angelo excels  himself  in  the  vigour  of  his  rendering. 
The  Conversion  of  St.  Paul  could  not  be  rendered 
more  powerfully  than  here.  Christ  appears  high  up 
in  the  corner  of  the  picture.  A  beam  of  His  radiance 
strikes  Paul,  and  he,  with  eyes  staring  out  of  the 
picture,  listens  for  the  voice  which  comes  from  the 
heavens  behind  him.  Thus  the  story  of  the  Con- 
version is  told  once  for  all,  in  a  way  that  completely 


Michelangelo 


289 


surpasses  the  rendering  of  the  theme  in  Raphael's 
tapestries.  In  this  latter,  apart  from  the  individual 
movement,  the  main  point  of  the  incident  is  not 
grasped.  The  prostrate  Paul  has  the  wrathful  God  too 
fully  before  his  eyes.  Michelangelo,  with  true  genius, 
places  the  Christ  above  Paul — on  his  neck,  as  it  were — 
so  that  the  latter  cannot  see  Him.  As  Paul  raises  his 
head  and  listens,  we  fancy  we  see  before  us  the  blinded 
man  in  whose  ears  the  heavenly  voice  rings.  On  the 
tapestry,  the  horse  is  represented  galloping  away  to 
the  side;  Michelangelo  placed  it  near  Paul,  in  a  dia- 
metrically opposite  direction,  facing  into  the  fresco. 
The  whole  group  is  unsymmetrically  pushed  towards 
the  left  edge  of  the  picture,  and  the  one  great  line, 
which  descends  steeply  from  the  Christ,  is  then  con- 
tinued at  a  less  acute  inclination  towards  the  other 
side.  This  is  his  last  style.  Harsh  lines  seam  the 
picture.  Heavy  conglomerations  of  mass  alternate 
with  yawning  gaps.  The  companion  picture,  the 
Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter,  is  made  up  of  equally  glaring 
discords. 

3. — The  Decadence 

No  one  would  wish  to  make  Michelangelo  personally 
responsible  for  the  destiny  of  Central  Italian  art.  He 
was  what  he  was  bound  to  be,  and  he  remained  sub- 
lime even  amid  the  distortions  of  his  later  style.  But 
his  influence  was  disastrous.  All  beauty  was  measured 
by  the  standard  of  his  works,  and  an  art  which  had 
been  created  under  exclusively  individual  conditions 
became  universal. 
19 


290      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


It  is  necessary  to  examine  somewhat  more  closely 
this  phenomenon  of  "  Mannerism. " 

All  artists  began  to  aim  at  bewildering  effects  of 
mass.  Raphael's  methods  of  construction  were  for- 
gotten. Spaciousness  and  beauty  of  form  were  ig- 
nored. Men's  ideas  of  the  capacities  of  surface  had 
become  dulled.  Painters  vied  with  each  other  in 
the  hideous  crowding  of  their  canvases,  and  in  a  dis- 
regard of  form  which  intentionally  aimed  at  an  opposi- 
tion between  the  space  and  its  contents.  It  was  not 
necessary  that  there  should  be  numerous  figures. 
Even  a  single  head  was  given  a  size  disproportionate 
to  its  frame,  and  in  isolated  sculptures,  colossal  fig- 
ures were  placed  on  minute  pedestals  (Ammanati's 
Neptune  in  the  Piazza  della  Signoria,  Florence). 

The  greatness  of  Michelangelo  was  referred  to  the 
wealth  of  movement  in  his  pictures.  Michelangel- 
esque  work  composition  became  a  synonym  for  the 
bringing  into  action  of  every  muscle,  and  thus  we 
enter  that  world  of  complicated  turns  and  bends,  in 
which  the  uselessness  of  the  action  cries  aloud  to 
heaven,  and  in  which  simple  gestures  and  natural 
movements  were  unknown.  If  we  think  of  the  re- 
clining nude  female  figures  of  Titian,  how  happy  may 
he  be  accounted  when  compared  with  a  Vasari,  who 
was  compelled  to  introduce  the  most  artificial  move- 
ments, in  order  to  make  a  Venus  attractive  to  the 
eyes  of  his  public.  (As  an  example  of  this,  the  Venus 
in  the  Colonna  Gallery  may  be  compared  with  the 
motive  of  the  Heliodorus.)  The  worst  aspect  of  the 
question  is  that  any  sympathetic  regret  would  have 
been  vigorously  deprecated  by  the  later  artist. 


292       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Art  became  absolutely  formal,  and  no  longer  re- 
garded nature.  It  constructed  schemes  of  movement 
after  receipts  of  its  own,  and  the  human  body  became 
a  mere  mechanism  of  joints  and  muscles.  If  we  stand 
before  Bronzino's  Christ  in  Limbo  we  fancy  we  are 
looking  at  an  anatomical  museum.  There  is  nothing 
but  anatomical  pedantry,  not  a  trace  of  unsophisti- 
cated vision.  The  sense  of  the  material,  the  feeling 
for  the  delicacy  of  the  human  skin,  and  the  charm  of 
the  surface  of  things  seemed  to  be  extinct.  Plastic 
art  reigned  supreme,  and  painters  became  pictorial 
sculptors.  In  their  infatuation  they  threw  away  all 
their  wealth  and  found  themselves  paupers.  The 
charming  subjects  of  earlier  times,  such  as  the  Adora- 
tion of  the  Shepherds,  or  of  The  Three  Kings,  were  now 
merely  pretexts  for  more  or  less  perfunctory  com- 
binations of  curves,  a  multiplicity  of  nude  forms. 
(Cf.  Tibaldi's  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds.) 

It  may  be  asked,  what  had  become  of  the  splendid 
scenes  of  the  Renaissance?  Why  should  a  picture  like 
Titian's  Presentation  in  the  Temple  of  1540  have  be- 
come inconceivable  in  Central  Italy?  Men  had  lost 
all  joy  in  themselves.  They  looked  for  some  universal 
principle,  which  lay  beyond  this  present  world,  and 
systematising  formed  a  profitable  alliance  with  learned 
antiquarianism.  The  difference  between  the  local 
schools  disappeared.  There  was  no  longer  a  popular 
art.  Under  these  circumstances,  art  was  beyond  all 
aid,  it  was  dying  at  the  roots,  and  the  baneful  am- 
bition to  produce  nothing  but  monumental  works  only 
hastened  the  calamity. 

It  could  not  revive  by  its  own  efforts;  its  salvation 


The  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds, 
by  P.  Tibaldi. 


293 


294      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


had  to  come  from  without.  It  was  in  the  Germanic 
North  of  Italy  that  the  fountain  of  a  new  naturalism 
began  to  flow.  Caravaggio  caused  a  memorable 
impression  at  a  time  when  men  had  gazed  until  they 
were  stupid  at  the  spiritless  productions  of  the  Man- 
nerists.  Once  more  there  was  originality  of  idea  and 
sentiment,  based  on  the  real  experience  of  the  artist. 
The  Entombment  in  the  Vatican  Gallery  may  appeal  to 
few  of  the  modern  public  by  its  main  features,  but  the 
reasons  must  have  been  good  which  induced  an  artist, 
who  felt  such  gigantic  powers  in  himself  as  the  young 
Rubens,  to  copy  it  on  a  large  scale.  If  we  simply  look 
at  a  single  figure,  like  that  of  the  weeping  girl,  we  shall 
find  in  it  a  shoulder,  painted  with  such  colour  and  such 
light  that  all  the  false  pretensions  of  Mannerism  melt 
away  like  an  evil  dream  in  the  beams  of  this  sunshine. 
Once  more  the  world  becomes  rich  and  joyous.  The 
Naturalism  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  not  the 
Bolognese  Academy,  was  the  true  heir  of  the  Renais- 
sance. Why  it  was  doomed  to  succumb  in  the  con- 
flict with  the  "ideal"  art  of  the  Eclectics  is  one  of  the 
most  interesting  questions  which  can  be  propounded 
in  the  history  of  art. 


PART  II 


295 


I 


THE  NEW  FEELING 

In  the  Campo  Santo  of  Pisa,  Benozzo  Gozzoli 
depicts  the  Drunkenness  of  Noah,  among  other  in- 
cidents of  Old  Testament  history.  The  story  was 
told  with  the  breadth  and  detail  characteristic  of  the 
Quattrocentist  narrator,  who  shows  his  pleasure  in 
representing  the  course  of  the  patriarch's  debauch  as 
circumstantially  as  possible.  He  begins  at  the  very 
beginning:  it  is  a  fine  afternoon  in  autumn,  and  the 
old  man  takes  his  two  grandchildren  with  him  to  see 
the  vintage.  We  are  shown  the  men  and  women 
picking  the  grapes,  filling  the  baskets  with  them,  and 
treading  them  in  the  vats.  The  scene  is  enlivened 
by  happy  creatures  everywhere;  birds  perch  near  the 
tiny  pools,  and  one  of  the  children  busies  himself  with 
a  dog.  The  grandfather  stands  and  enjoys  the  cheer- 
ful scene.  Meantime  the  new  wine  has  been  pressed 
and  is  handed  to  the  master  for  approval.  His  own 
wife  brings  him  the  cup  and  all  wait  expectant  while 
he  tastes  the  liquor  critically.  The  verdict  was  favour- 
able, for  the  patriarch  now  disappears  into  a  retired 
arbour,  where  a  large  cask  of  vino  nuovo  has  been 
placed.  Then  the  disaster  occurs.  The  old  man  lies 
in  drunken  stupor  before  the  door  of  his  fine,  brightly- 
painted  house,  indecently  exposed.  The  children 
see  the  strange  transformation  with  deep  astonish- 

297 


298      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ment,  while  the  wife  takes  care  to  send  the  maid- 
servants at  once  about  their  business.  They  hide 
their  faces  with  their  hands,  but  reluctantly,  and  one 


Baptism  of  Christ,  by  Verrocchio. 


of  them  tries  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  spectacle 
through  her  outspread  fingers. 

After  1500  we  find  no  more  of  these  narratives. 
The  scene  is  crisply  worked  out  in  a  few  figures,  with- 
out accessories.  There  are  no  descriptions;  only  the 
dramatic  kernel  of  the  story  is  presented.    The  sub- 


The  New  Feeling 


299 


ject  is  not  spun  out;  it  is  treated  seriously.  The 
artist  does  not  wish  to  amuse  the  spectator,  but  to 
stir  his  emotions.  Human  passion  becomes  the 
main  preoccupation,  and,  compared  with  the  interest 
taken  in  man,  all  that  the  world  contains  is  of  small 
account. 

A  spectator  in  a  gallery  where  the  Cinquecentists 
hang  side  by  side,  is  struck  first  by  the  narrow  range 
of  material.  Cinquecentist  art  depicts  nothing  but 
human  forms,  mighty  forms  that  fill  the  whole  picture, 
and  secondary  incidents  are  rigorously  excluded. 
What  is  true  of  the  easel-pictures  holds  good  of  the 
frescoes.  In  both  we  behold  a  new  race  of  men,  and 
art  aims  at  effects  which  are  no  longer  compatible 
with  contemplative  joy  in  the  rich  variety  of  inani- 
mate things. 

I 

The  Cinquecento  sets  out  with  a  totally  new  con- 
ception of  human  greatness  and  dignity.  All  move- 
ment becomes  more  emphatic,  and  emotion  draws  a 
deeper  and  more  passionate  breath.  A  general  ex- 
altation of  human  nature  is  noticeable.  Men  devel- 
oped a  feeling  for  the  important,  the  solemn,  and  the 
grandiose,  in  comparison  with  which  the  fifteenth 
century  must  have  appeared  awkward  and  timid  in  its 
attitude.  Thus  every  expression  was  translated  into 
a  new  language.  The  curt  bright  tones  became  deep 
and  sonorous,  and  the  world  once  more  heard  the 
splendid  periods  of  an  emotional  style.  When  the 
Baptism  of  Christ  is  depicted — let  us  say,  for  example, 


300      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


■  -  ^  V 


v  - 


by  Verrocchio — the  ceremony  is  performed  with  a 
pressing  haste,  and  a  conscientious  care,  which  may 
have  been  honestly  felt,  but  appeared  vulgar  to  the 

new  generation. 
Let  us  compare 
A.  Sanso  vino's 
group  in  the 
Baptistery  with 
Verrocchio's 
Baptism.  The 
former  gives  a 
perfectly  novel 
rendering  of  the 
theme.  The 
Baptist  is  not 
advancing,  he 
stands  calmly  in 
his  place.  His 
breast  is  turned 
towards  the 
spectator,  not 
towards  Christ. 
The  head  alone, 
boldly  facing 
sideways,  fol- 


~  r'Tr  Hirt^ 


Baptism  of  Christ,  by  A.  Sansovino. 


lows  the  direction  of  the  hand,  which  holds  the  bowl 
of  water  at  arm's  length  over  the  Redeemer's  head. 
There  is  no  anxious  following  after  Jesus,  no  straining 
forward  of  the  body.  The  Baptist,  calm  and  reticent, 
performs  the  ceremony,  a  symbolic  action,  which  does 
not  depend  for  its  efficacy  on  any  precise  method  of 
execution.    Verrocchio's  John  is  bending  over  like  an 


The  New  Feeling  301 


apothecary  pouring  a  draft  into  a  bottle,  and  full  of  anx- 
iety lest  a  drop  should  be  wasted.  His  eye  follows  the 
water :  in  Sanso  vino '  s  group  it  rests  on  the  face  of  Christ . 1 

Among  the  pencil-drawings  in  the  Uffizi,  there  is  a 
corresponding  sketch  for  a  Baptism  in  the  Cinquecento 
style  by  Fra  Bartolommeo. 

The  figure  of  the  Christ  is  likewise  changed.  He  is 
represented  as  a  ruler,  not  as  a  poor  teacher.  Ver- 
rocchio  depicts  him  standing  unsteadily  in  the  river, 
the  water  swirling  round  his  shrunken  legs.  A  later 
age  gradually  dispensed  with  the  standing  in  the 
water,  unwilling  to  sacrifice  the  clear  representation 
of  the  figures  to  commonplace  realism,  but  the  pose 
itself  became  easy  and  dignified.  Sansovino's  attitude 
is  graceful  and, buoyant;  the  leg  on  which  no  weight 
is  thrown,  is  thrust  out  to  the  side.  There  is  a  beau- 
tiful continuous  line  in  place  of  the  angular  jagged 
movement.  The  shoulders  are  squared,  the  head  only 
being  slightly  sunk.  The  arms  are  crossed  over  the 
breast,  the  natural  development  of  the  conventional 
motive  of  the  hands  clasped  in  prayer. 2 

This  is  the  grand  gesture  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Leonardo  had  already  used  it  with  all  the  reticence 
and  refinement  characteristic  of  him.    Fra  Barto- 

1  Sansovino's  Baptist  holds  the  bowl  almost  horizontally. 
Formerly  the  inverted  vessel  was  represented  with  archaic  exact- 
ness, and  Bellini  makes  the  contents  drain  away  to  the  last  drop. 
(Picture  at  Vicenza.) 

2  A  similar  criticism  might  be  applied  to  the  bronze  group  of 
Christ  and  St.  Thomas  by  Verrocchio  in  Or  San  Michele.  Christ, 
who  is  exposing  the  wounds  with  His  own  hands  and  following 
the  action  with  His  eyes,  is  too  trivial  in  motive.  A  later  artist 
would  have  conceived  the  scene  differently. 


302       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


lommeo  vibrates  with  the  new  pathos,  and  carries 
his  public  away  as  with  the  blast  of  a  hurricane.  The 
prayer  of  his  Mater  Misericordice,  and  the  bene- 
diction of  his  Salvator,  are  creations  of  the  highest 
class.  The  way  in  which  entreaty  breathes  from  every 
line  of  the  Virgin,  the  impressive  dignity  with  which 
Christ  gives  the  blessing,  make  all  earlier  representa- 
tions appear  as  child's  play.  Michelangelo  was 
from  the  first  no  emotionalist.  He  makes  no  long 
speeches,  and  his  pathos  is  subdued  as  the  murmur 
of  a  mighty  subterranean  spring,  but  in  force  of 
gesture  he  was  incomparable.  It  is  enough  to  in- 
stance the  figure  of  the  Creator  on  the  Sistine  ceiling. 
Raphael,  during  the  years  of  his  manhood  at  Rome, 
had  drunk  deeply  of  the  new  ideas.  .  What  intense 
emotion  lives  in  the  sketch  for  the  tapestry  of  the 
Coronation  of  the  Virgin;  with  what  vigour  do  the 
gestures  express  the  action  of  donor  and  recipient ! 
A  strong  personality  is  required  to  keep  these  motives 
of  vigorous  expression  well  under  control.  An  in- 
structive example  of  the  way  in  which  they  sometimes 
run  away  with  the  artist  is  given  by  the  composition 
of  the  so-called  Five  Saints  at  Parma. 1  It  is  a  work 
of  the  school  of  Raphael,  which  might  be  compared 
with  the  still  timidly-drawn  group  of  Christ  in  the 
Disputa  of  the  youthful  master. 

We  have  the  literary  parallel  to  this  excess  of  pathos 
in  Sannazaro's  famous  poem  of  the  Birth  of  Christ 
(De  partu  Virginis).2    The  poet  had  determined  to 

1  Engraving  by  Marc  Antonio,  B.  no.  113. 

2  The  work  appeared  in  1526.  The  author  is  supposed  to  have 
elaborated  it  for  twenty  years. 


The  New  Feeling 


303 


avoid  as  far  as  possible  the  simple  style  of  Biblical 
narrative  and  to  adorn  the  story  with  all  the  pomp 
and  pathos  which  he  could  contrive.  Mary  is  from 
the  first  the  goddess,  the  Queen.  The  humble  "  Fiat 
mihi  secundum  verbum  tuurn"  (u  Be  it  unto  me  accord- 
ing to  Thy  word")  is  changed  into  a  long  high-flown 
speech,  which  does  not  correspond  in  the  least  with 
the  Biblical  situation:  she  looks  up  to  heaven. 

"  .  .  .  oculos  ad  sidera  tollens  adnuit  et  tales  emisit  pectore 
voces : 

Jam,  jam  vince  fides,  vince  obsequiosa  voluntas: 
En  adsum:  accipio  venerans  tua  jussa  tuumque 
dulce  sacrum  pater  omnipotens, " 1  etc. 

Brightness  fills  the  room.  She  conceives.  Thun- 
der is  heard  in  a  clear  sky 

11  ut  omnes 
audirent  late  populi,  quos  maximus  ambit 
Oceanus  Thetysque  et  raucisona  Amphitrite.  "a 

2 

Together  with  a  desire  for  large  and  prominent 
forms  we  find  a  tendency  to  weaken  the  expression  of 
emotion,  which  characterises  the  physiognomy  of 
the  century  in  a  still  higher  degree.    This  is  the 

1  "raising  her  eyes  to  the  stars,  she  bowed  her  head  and  uttered 
these  words  from  her  heart:  Prevail,  O  faith,  prevail,  willing 
obedience!  Behold  I  am  here;  I  receive  and  worship  thy  com- 
mands, Omnipotent  Father,"  etc. 

2  "that  all  the  lands  might  hear,  which  mightiest  Ocean  and 
Thetys  and  hoarse-sounding  Amphitrite  encircle. " 


304       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


quality  referred  to  by  those  who  speak  of  the  "  classic 
repose "  of  these  figures.    Examples  are  not  far  to 


Pieta.    From  Marc  Antonio's  engraving  after  Raphael. 

seek.  At  a  moment  of  the  most  intense  emotion, 
when  Mary  sees  her  Son  dead  before  her,  she  does 
not  scream,  nor  even  weep.  Calm  and  tearless,  her 
features  undistorted  by  grief,  she   stretches  out 


The  New  Feeling  305 


her  arms  and  gazes  upwards.  Raphael  has  drawn  her 
thus  (engraving  by  Marc  Antonio).  Fra  Bartolom- 
meo  makes  her  imprint  a  quiet  passionless  kiss  on 
the  forehead  of  a  dead  Christ  who  shows  no  trace  of 
His  recent  sufferings.  Michelangelo,  still  greater 
and  more  restrained  than  the  others,  had  already 
represented  the  scene  on  these  lines  in  the  Pieta  of 
his  first  visit  to  Rome. 

When,  in  the  Visitation,  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  great 
with  child,  embrace  each  other,  it  is  the  meeting  of 
two  tragedy  queens,  a  slow,  solemn,  silent  greeting 
(Sebastiano  del  Piombo,  Louvre).  We  have  done 
with  the  cheerful  hasty  visit,  when  a  kindly  young 
woman  with  a  graceful  gesture  tells  the  old  cousin  not 
to  stand  so  much  on  ceremony. 

In  the  scene  of  the  Annunciation ,  Mary  is  no  longer 
the  girl  gazing  in  joyful  alarm  at  the  unexpected 
visitor,  as  Filippo,  Baldovinetti,  or  Lorenzo  di  Credi 
painted  her,  nor  the  modest  maiden,  casting  her  eyes 
down  like  a  candidate  for  confirmation,  but,  absolutely 
composed,  with  a  royal  bearing,  she  receives  the 
angel  like  a  fashionable  lady  who  is  not  to  be  taken  by 
surprise. 1 

Even  the  emotions  of  maternal  love  and  tenderness 

1  Leonardo  blames  a  contemporary  painter,  who  represents 
Mary  in  such  agitation  at  the  message  that  she  seems  ready  to 
leap  out  of  the  window.  Albertinelli  and  Andrea  del  Sarto  first 
struck  the  true  Cinquecento  note.  Piero  dei  Franceschi  antici- 
pated this  representation  in  his  Annunciation  at  Arezzo.  The 
subject  has  found  its  most  grandiose  realisation  in  the  picture  by 
Marcello  Venusti  (Lateran),  a  conception  which  betrays  the  spirit 
oc  Michelangelo.  (There  is  a  replica  in  the  rarely  accessible 
Church  of  S.  Caterina  ai  Funari  in  Rome.) 

20 


306       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


are  subdued.  The  Madonnas  of  Raphael's  Roman 
period  are  very  different  in  expression  to  his  first 
conceptions.  It  would  no  longer  seem  decorous  for 
the  Madonna,  now  become  so  stately,  to  press  the 
Child  to  her  cheek,  as  the  Madonna  delta  Casa  Tempi 
does.  A  distance  is  put  between  them.  Even  the 
Madonna  delta  Sedia  is  the  proud  mother,  not  the  lov- 
ing mother  who  forgets  the  world  around  her,  and  if 
in  the  Madonna  of  Francis  I.  the  Child  hastens  to 
His  mother,  it  should  be  noticed  how  little  the  latter 
advances  towards  Him. 

3 

Italy  in  the  sixteenth  century  stereotyped  the  idea 
of  distinction  which  still  prevails  in  the  West.  A 
number  of  gestures  and  movements  disappeared  from 
pictures;  they  were  felt  to  be  too  commonplace.  We 
have  a  distinct  sense  of  passing  into  another  rank 
of  society.  Art  is  no  longer  middle-class,  but 
aristocratic.  All  the  distinctive  criteria  of  manner 
and  feeling  prevailing  in  the  higher  classes  were 
adopted,  and  the  whole  celestial  world  of  the  Christian, 
his  saints  and  heroes,  had  to  take  on  an  aristocratic 
stamp.  The  gulf  between  the  popular  and  the  re- 
fined was  then  fixed.  When  in  Ghirlandajo's  Last 
Supper  of  1480  Peter  points  with  his  thumb  at  Christ, 
we  have  a  popular  gesture,  which  High  Art  at  once 
rejected  as  inadmissible.  Leonardo  was  fastidious 
enough,  yet  even  he  now  and  again  commits  an  offence 
against  pure  Cinquecentist  taste.  I  place  in  this  cat- 
egory the  gesture  of  the  Apostle  at  the  Last  Supper  (to 


The  New  Feeling  3°7 


the  right),  who  has  placed  one  hand  open  on  the  table, 
and  strikes  it  with  the  back  of  the  other,  a  gesture  still 


The  Visitation,  by  Sebastiano  del  Piombo. 


ordinary  and  intelligible,  but  one  which  the  "high 
style"  will  admit  no  more  than  the  other.  It  would 
take  us  too  far,  if  we  were  to  attempt  to  describe  fully 
this  process  of  1 1  purification/ '  One  or  two  instances 
will  be  typical  of  many. 


308       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


At  the  banquet  of  Herod,  when  the  head  of  John 
is  placed  on  the  table,  Ghirlandajo  makes  the  King 
bow  his  head  and  clench  his  hands;  we  hear  him 
lamenting.  The  later  age  thought  this  unkingly . 
Andrea  del  Sarto  shows  the  arm  outstretched  and 
languidly  deprecatory,  a  silent  repudiation. 

When  Salome  dances,  Filippo  or  Ghirlandajo 
makes  her  spring  round  the  room  with  the  wild  im- 
petuosity of  a  schoolgirl.  The  decorum  of  the  six- 
teenth century  demands  a  more  reticent  bearing;  a 
princess  should  dance  only  stately  measures,  and 
Andrea  has  represented  her  thus  engaged. 

General  ideas  are  formed  as  to  decorous  sitting  and 
walking.  Zacharias,  the  father  of  John,  was  a  plain 
man,  but  the  laying  of  his  leg  over  his  knee,  when  he 
wrote  down  the  name  of  the  new-born  boy,  as  pictured 
by  Ghirlandajo,  was  an  attitude  unworthy  of  the  hero 
of  a  Cinquecentist  story. 

The  true  aristocrat  is  careless  in  his  bearing  and 
movements.  He  does  not  attitudinise,  nor  stiffen  his 
back  in  order  to  make  himself  presentable ;  he  is  con- 
tent to  appear  as  he  is,  for  he  is  always  fit  for  any 
company.  The  heroes  whom  Castagno  painted  are  for 
the  most  part  common  swaggerers;  no  gentleman 
would  look  like  them.  Even  the  type  of  the  Colleoni 
in  Venice  must  have  been  felt  by  the  sixteenth  century 
to  be  that  of  a  braggadocio.  The  way  in  which  the 
women  march  bolt-upright  when,  in  Ghirlandajo's 
picture,  they  visit  the  lying-in  room,  seemed  later  to 
have  a  middle-class  touch  about  it;  the  high-born 
dame's  deportment  should  be  marked  by  an  easy 
negligence. 


The  New  Feeling 


309 


If  we  want  Italian  testimony  to  these  new  con- 
ceptions, it  is  to  be  found  in  Count  Castiglione's 
Cortigiano,  the  treatise  on  the  Perfect  Cavalier  (15 16). 
It  gives  the  idea  prevalent  at  Urbino,  and  Urbino  was 
then  the  place  where  all  who  laid  claim  to  rank  and 
breeding  resorted,  the  recognised  school  of  polite 
manners.  The  expression  for  high-bred,  elegant 
nonchalance  was  la  sprezzata  disinvoltura.  The  duch- 
ess, who  dominated  the  Court,  was  famed  for  the 
unpretentious  distinction  of  her  manners:  the  modes- 
tia  and  grandezza  of  her  words  and  gestures  made 
her  regal.  We  glean  many  further  details  as  to 
what  was  compatible  with  the  dignity  of  a  nobleman. 
A  sober  gravity  of  demeanour  is  repeatedly  put  for- 
ward as  his  essential  characteristic,  that  gravita 
riposata  which  marks  the  Spaniard.  We  are  told 
(and  this  was  clearly  a  new  departure)  that  it  is  in- 
decorous for  a  man  of  breeding  to  take  part  in  rapid 
dances  (non  entri  in  quella  prestezza  de  piedi  e 
duplicate  ribattimenti) .  The  ladies  were  similarly 
advised  to  avoid  all  hasty  movements  (non  vorrei 
vederle  usar  movimenti  troppo  gagliardi  e  sforzati. 
Everything  was  to  be  marked  by  la  molle  deli- 
catura. 

The  discussion  of  good  manners  naturally  extends 
to  language,  and  if  Castiglione  still  allows  consider- 
able freedom,  the  popular  book  on  decorous  behaviour 
by  Delia  Casa  (il  Galateo)  contains  far  stricter  rules. 
Even  the  old  poets  are  taken  to  task,  and  the  critic 
of  the  sixteenth  century  is  surprised  that  Dante  should 
put  the  locutions  of  the  pothouse  into  the  mouth  of  his 
Beatrice. 


3io       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


In  the  sixteenth  century  men  strove  perpetually  for 
dignity  of  demeanour,  and  became  serious  in  the 
process.  The  Quattrocento  must  have  seemed  a 
petulant  and  thoughtless  child  to  the  new  generation. 
It  was  thought,  for  example,  an  incomprehensible 
piece  of  naivete  to  allow  two  laughing  boys  to  be 
placed  on  a  tomb,  holding  the  coats  of  arms,  as  on  the 
tomb  of  Marsuppini  by  Desiderio  in  S.  Croce.  There 
ought  to  have  been  weeping  putti  in  their  places,  or, 
better,  large  mourning  figures  (Virtues),  for  children 
can  never  be  really  serious. 1 

4 

Only  important  events  were  considered  worthy  of 
notice.  In  the  stories  of  the  Quattrocentists  there 
are  a  number  of  homely  idyllic  touches,  which  have 
little  to  do  with  the  real  theme,  but  delight  the  modern 
spectator  by  their  simplicity.  We  have  given  in- 
stances in  the  history  of  Noah  by  Gozzoli.  The 
painter  was  not  anxious  to  convey  one  definite  im- 
pression, he  wished  to  gratify  the  public  by  a  wealth 
of  incidents.  When  the  Saints  in  Signorelli's  fresco 
in  Orvieto  are  receiving  their  heavenly  crowns,  angels 
are  making  music  in  the  skies.  One  of  them  finds  it 
necessary  to  tune  his  instrument,  and  at  the  most 
solemn  moment  he  gravely  sets  about  this  task  in  the 
most  conspicuous  place.  He  might  have  seen  to  this 
beforehand ! 

1  The  mourning  putti  are  found  as  early  as  the  fifteenth 
century  in  Rome,  always  more  solemn  than  Florence.  The 
seventeenth  century  recurs  to  the  artless  motive  of  smiling  children 
on  sepulchral  monuments.    These  are,  however,  very  infantine. 


The  New  Feeling 


3ii 


Botticelli  painted  the  Exodus  of  the  Jews  from 
Egypt  in  the  Sistine  Chapel.  The  exodus  of  a  nation, 
a  truly  heroic  scene!  Yet  what  is  the  main  motive? 
A  woman  with  two  little  boys ;  the  youngest  is  led  by 
the  elder  brother,  but  he  is  rebellious ;  he  clings  tear- 
fully to  his  mother's  arm  and  is  being  scolded.  It  is 
a  charming  incident,  but  who  among  the  new  genera- 
tion would  have  been  bold  enough  to  introduce  the 
motive  in  such  a  connection? 

Cosimo  Rosselli  represented  the  Last  Supper  in  the 
same  chapel.  He  introduces  into  the  foreground  a  still- 
life  of  great  polished  metal  dishes ;  then  he  paints  a  dog 
and  cat  romping  together,  and  another  dog,  begging 
on  his  hind  legs.  The  tone  of  the  sacred  theme  is  of 
course  quite  ruined,  yet  he  offended  nobody,  and  the 
painter  was  decorating  the  private  chapel  of  the  Head 
of  Christendom. 

There  were  individual  artists,  like  the  great  Dona- 
tello,  who  showed  a  perfect  sense  of  unity  in  their 
conception  of  a  historic  moment.  His  historical 
pictures  are  the  best  narratives  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. It  was  extraordinarily  difficult  for  others  to 
concentrate  themselves  to  abandon  all  that  was 
merely  entertaining,  and  to  represent  the  subject 
seriously.  Leonardo's  axiom  was  that  a  picture 
telling  a  story  ought  to  make  the  same  emotional 
impression  on  the  spectator,  as  if  he  had  been  present 
at  the  occurrence. 1  .  But  how  was  this  possible  so 
long  as  a  crowd  of  persons  was  tolerated  in  the  pic- 
tures who  were  uninterested  bystanders  or  apathetic 


1  Trattato  delta  Pittura. 


312       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


spectators?  In  Giotto's  scenes  every  one  present 
took,  either  actively  or  passively,  a  personal  part  in  the 
action,  but  the  Quattrocento  ushered  in  that  silent 
chorus  of  persons  who  were  tolerated,  because  interest 
in  the  representation  of  mere  existence  and  of  charac- 
teristic life  has  become  stronger  than  interest  in  action, 
and  the  relation  of  individual  to  individual.  It  was 
often  the  purchaser  of  the  picture  and  his  family  who 
wished  to  figure  on  the  stage,  or  perhaps  some  local 
celebrity  whom  the  painter  honoured  in  this  way, 
without  imposing  any  definite  role  on  them.  L.  B. 
Alberti,  in  his  treatise  on  painting,  does  not  hesitate 
to  solicit  this  honour  for  himself. 1 

If  we  examine  the  cycle  of  frescoes  on  the  walls  of 
the  Sistine  Chapel,  we  are  struck  by  the  indifference 
of  the  artist  to  his  subject.  It  is  strange  -how  little  he 
cares  to  emphasise  the  real  factors  in  the  story,  how, 
more  or  less  universally,  in  the  conflict  of  various  in- 
terests, the  essential  threatens  to  disappear  before  the 
unessential.  Did  ever  Lawgiver  like  Moses  have  be- 
fore him  so  inattentive  an  audience  as  that  in  Signor- 
elli's  fresco?  It  is  almost  impossible  for  the  spectator 
to  realise  the  situation.  One  might  have  thought 
that  Botticelli  was  of  all  others  the  man  to  depict,  in 
the  Rebellion  of  Korah,  the  passionate  excitement 
which  had  spread  among  great  masses  of  people.  But, 
even  with  him,  how  soon  does  the  fire  of  movement 
die  out  in  the  ranks  of  the  stolid  bystanders ! 

When  Raphael's  tapestries  with  the  stories  of  the 
Apostles  appeared,  they  must  have  produced  a  pro- 


1  Minor  Writings. 


The  New  Feeling  313 


found  impression  in  contrast  to  these  historical 
pictures  of  the  Quattrocento.  Raphael  had  treated 
his  subject  with  the  utmost  seriousness,  his  stage 
was  cleared  of  all  superfluous  figures,  and  a  vigour  of 
dramatic  animation  was  displayed  which  appealed 
directly  to  the  feelings  of  the  spectator.  When  Paul 
is  preaching  at  Athens,  the  bystanders  are  not  mere 
supernumeraries  with  typical  heads,  but  the  features 
of  each  individual  show  what  impression  the  words 
make  on  him,  and  how  far  he  can  follow  the  speaker. 
When  some  marvellous  event  occurs,  as  the  sudden 
death  of  Ananias,  all  who  see  it  start  back  with  the 
most  eloquent  gestures  of  surprise  and  horror,  whereas 
the  whole  Egyptian  nation  might  be  drowned  in  the 
Red  Sea,  and  a  Quattrocentist  painter  would  not  show 
a  single  Hebrew  excited  at  the  catastrophe. 

It  was  reserved  for  the  sixteenth  century,  not  to 
discover  the  great  world  of  human  emotions  and  pas- 
sions, but  to  turn  it  to  artistic  account.  Its  art  is 
characterised  by  keen  interest  in  the  psychological 
aspect  of  events.  The  Temptation  of  Christ  would 
have  been  a  theme  entirely  congenial  to  the  new  era. 
Botticelli  could  make  nothing  of  it,  and  filled  his 
picture  with  the  representation  of  a  mere  ceremony. 
On  the  other  hand,  where  the  Cinquecentists  had  to 
treat  subjects  lacking  in  dramatic  elements  they  often 
made  the  mistake  of  introducing  passion  and  intense 
emotion  into  scenes  where  they  are  out  of  place;  for 
example,  the  idyllic  scenes* of  the  Birth  of  Christ. 

The  intimate  pleasure  of  the  artist  in  his  work 
ceased  in  the  sixteenth  century.  Delight  in  the 
breadth  of  nature  and  the  wealth  of  objects  dies  away. 


314       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


A  Quattrocentist,  painting  an  Adoration  of  the  Shep- 
herds would  introduce  any  and  every  motive.  There  is 
a  picture  of  the  sort  by  Ghirlandajo  in  the  Academy  of 
Florence.  How  carefully  the  animals  are  painted,  the 
ox,  the  ass,  the  sheep,  the  goldfinch;  then  we  have 
flowers,  pebbles,  a  smiling  landscape.  We  are  in- 
troduced to  the  family  baggage ;  a  well-worn  saddle  lies 
on  the  ground,  and  a  wine  cask  by  it.  The  painter, 
to  suit  the  antiquarian  taste  of  the  day,  has  thrown  in 
one  or  two  ornamental  adjuncts:  a  sarcophagus,  an 
antique  pillar  or  two,  and  in  the  background  a  brand 
new  triumphal  arch,  with  an  inscription  in  golden 
letters  on  a  blue  frieze. 

The  "  great  style"  knows  nothing  of  these  diversions 
offered  to  a  sight-loving  public.  We  shall  speak 
later  of  the  way  in  which  the  eye  looked  elsewhere  for 
pleasing  effects ;  it  need  only  be  said  in  this  place  that 
the  interest  of  the  later  historical  picture  was  con- 
centrated entirely  on  the  actual  event,  and  that  the 
attempt  to  produce  the  main  effect  by  great  emo- 
tional action  excluded  the  mere  gratification  of  the  eye 
by  miscellaneous  incidents.  This  entailed  a  rigorous 
condensation  of  the  diffuse  elements  hitherto  intro- 
duced in  Lives  of  the  Virgin,  and  kindred  subjects. 

5 

Even  portraits  tended  to  become  somewhat  dra- 
matic in  the  sixteenth  century.  From  the  time  of 
Donatello  occasional  attempts  had  been  made  to  do 
more  than  merely  describe  the  passive  model,  but 
this  was  the  exception,  and  the  rule  was  that  the 


The  New  Feeling 


3i5 


portrait  exactly  represented  the  person  as  he  sat  to 
the  painter.  The  heads  of  the  Quattrocento  are 
invaluable  in  their  simplicity.  They  were  not  in- 
tended to  produce  any  special  impression,  but  on 
comparison  with  the  classical  portraits  they  seem 
somewhat  indifferent.  The  Cinquecento  demanded 
definite  expression.  We  see  at  once  what  the  person 
is  thinking  and  what  he  wishes  to  say.  It  was  not 
enough  to  show  the  permanent  features  of  a  face ;  some 
moment  of  vivid  actuality  had  to  be  depicted. 

At  the  same  time  the  painter  tried  to  grasp  the 
most  significant  aspect  of  his  model.  There  is  a 
higher  conception  of  the  dignity  of  man,  and  we  re- 
ceive the  impression  that  the  race  which  stood  on  this 
side  of  the  threshold  of  the  sixteenth  century  was  one 
of  fuller  emotions  and  greater  powers.  Lomazzo  in 
his  treatise  has  laid  down  as  a  rule  for  the  portrait 
painter,  that,  setting  aside  the  imperfect  traits,  he 
should  work  out  and  strengthen  the  great  dignified 
features.  This  is  a  belated  theoretical  formulation 
of  what  the  Classics  had  done  of  themselves:  al 
pittore  conviene  che  sempre  accresca  nelle  faccie 
grandezza  e  rnaesta,  coprendo  il  difetto  del  naturale, 
cofne  si  vede  che  hanno  fatto  gV  antichi  pittori.1 
("The  painter's  duty  is  to  enhance  the  grandeur  and 
dignity  of  the  face,  disguising  the  natural  defects,  as 
was  the  custom  of  the  ancient  painters. ")  It  is  clear 
that  there  was  imminent  danger  that  such  a  tendency 

1  He  refers  to  Titian,  among  others,  who  had  shown  in  his 
Ariosto  "la  facundia  e  l'ornamento, "  and  in  his  Bembo,  "la 
maesta  e  l'accuratezza. "  Lomazzo,  Trattura  delta  Pittura. 
Ed.  of  1585,  p.  433. 


3 16      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


would  destroy  the  characteristics  of  the  individual 
and  distort  his  personality  to  bring  it  into  harmony 
with  some  scheme  of  expression  foreign  to  it.  But 
it  was  only  the  "Epigoni"  who  succumbed  to  this 
danger. 

The  diminished  number  of  commissions  for  portraits 
may  have  been  due  to  this  more  exalted  conception  of 
the  individual.  Obviously,  artists  could  not  be  asked 
to  paint  every  commonplace  countenance.  It  was 
said  indeed  of  Michelangelo  that  he  regarded  it  as  a 
degradation  of  art  to  copy  any  earthly  object  in  its 
individual  limitations,  unless  it  was  of  the  most  sur- 
passing beauty. 

6 

It  was  inevitable  that  this  ideal  of  dignity  should 
determine  the  conception  and  representation  of 
celestial  beings.  Religious  feeling  might  express  it- 
self for  or  against  this  view.  The  higher  social  grade 
of  the  sacred  figures  was  a  consequence  which  followed 
from  very  different  premisses.  Attention  has  already 
been  called  to  the  dignified  and  reserved  figure  of  the 
Virgin  in  the  Annunciation.  The  shy  maiden  has  be- 
come a  princess,  and  the  Madonna  with  the  Bambino, 
who  in  the  fifteenth  century  might  have  been  an  honest 
middle-class  wife  from  the  next  street,  becomes  aristo- 
cratic, stately,  and  unapproachable. 

She  no  longer  smiles  at  the  spectator  with  laughing 
eyes,  nor  is  she  the  Mary  who  lowers  her  gaze  modestly 
and  humbly,  nor  the  young  mother  intent  upon  her 
Babe.    She  regards  the  worshipper  with  dignity  and 


The  New  Feeling 


3i7 


assurance,  like  a  queen  accustomed  to  see  men  kneel- 
ing before  her.  The  characterisation  is  not  uniform; 
at  one  time  we  see  a  worldly  superiority,  as  with 
Andrea  del  Sarto,  at  another  a  heroic  elevation  above 
the  world,  as  with  Michelangelo,  but  the  trans- 
formation of  the  type  is  noticeable  everywhere. 

The  Infant  Christ  again  is  no  more  the  merry 
playful  Child  who  examines  a  pomegranate  and 
offers  His  mother  a  seed  (Filippo  Lippi),  or  the 
laughing  urchin  raising  His  hand  to  give  a  blessing 
which  cannot  be  taken  seriously.  If  He  is  smiling, 
as  in  the  Madonna  del  Arpie,  it  is  at  the  spectator, 
with  a  rather  unpleasant  coquetry,  for  which  Sarto  is 
responsible,  but  usually  He  is  serious,  very  serious. 
Raphael's  Roman  pictures  prove  this.  Michelangelo, 
however,  was  the  first  who  represented  the  Child 
thus  without  forcing  Him  into  unchildlike  attitudes 
(such  as  the  act  of  blessing).  He  represents  the 
Boy  with  absolutely  natural  gestures,  but  whether 
awake  or  asleep  He  is  a  joyless  Child. 1 

Among  the  Quattrocentists,  Botticelli  clearly  pre- 
ludes in  this  strain ;  he  became  more  and  more  serious 
as  he  grew  older,  offering  a  vigorous  protest  against 
the  smiling  superficiality  of  a  Ghirlandajo.  Yet  he 
cannot  be  included  in  the  types  of  the  new  century. 
His  Madonna  certainly  has  a  serious  look,  but  she  is  a 
depressed  and  sorrowful  being,  and  her  Child  is  not 

1  The  highest  period  of  German  Art  shows  an  analogy  to  this 
emancipation  of  the  Infant  Christ  from  the  unchildlike  function 
of  blessing.  The  gesture  of  the  Boy  in  Holbein's  Madonna 
at  Darmstadt,  as  He  stretches  out  His  left  arm,  is  no  longer  a 
benediction. 


3 18       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


yet  the  kingly  Child.  Am  I  mistaken  in  supposing 
the  rarity  of  the  representation  of  the  Madonna  with 
the  Babe  at  her  breast  to  be  connected  with  this 
development?  It  is  imaginable  that  the  idea  of  the 
suckling  mother  appeared  deficient  in  dignity  to  the 
Cinquecento.  Bugiardini  still  represents  the  Ma- 
donna  del  latte,  but  his  Mary  points  with  her  hand  to 
her  breast,  as  if  she  wished  to  say  to  the  spectator: 
"This  is  the  breast  which  fed  the  Lord"  (picture  in 
the  Uffizi).  In  the  picture  of  the  Betrothal  of  the 
Infant  Christ  and  St.  Catherine  (Bologna  Gallery),  the 
same  artist  does  not  treat  the  ceremony  as  one  in- 
comprehensible to  the  Child;  in  fact  the  little  Boy  is 
fully  conscious  of  the  situation,  and  seems  to  be  ad- 
monishing the  modest  bride  with  upraised  finger. 

Corresponding  to  the  inner  change  there  was  a 
complete  transformation  in  external  form.  All  the 
treasures  of  the  world  had  formerly  been  collected 
round  the  throne  where  Mary  sat,  and  our  Lady  was 
endowed  with  every  adornment  of  dainty  robes  and 
costly  jewels.  Brightly-patterned  carpets  from  the 
East  were  unfolded,  and  marble  canopies  glittered 
against  the  blue  sky.  Mary  was  enshrined  in  graceful 
foliage,  or  a  heavy  purple  curtain  drooped  from  above, 
brocaded  with  gold,  edged  with  pearls,  and  lined  with 
rich  ermine.  With  the  sixteenth  century  all  this 
varied  splendour  disappears  at  once.  No  more  car- 
pets and  flowers  are  seen,  no  artistically  decorated 
throne,  no  charming  landscapes.  The  figure  is  pre- 
dominant, and  if  architecture  is  introduced,  it  is  a 
great  and  serious  motive,  while  all  profane  ornaments 
are  banished  from  the  dress.    The  queen  of  heaven 


The  New  Feeling 


3i9 


must  be  shown  in  grandiose  simplicity.  I  do  not 
inquire  if  a  deeper  piety  finds  expression  in  this  change. 
There  are  people  indeed  who  affirm  on  the  contrary 
that  anxious  avoidance  of  the  "profane"  argues  an 
uncertainty  of  religious  conviction.1 

An  analogous  elevation  of  types  took  place  in  the 
ranks  of  the  saints.  The  artist  is  no  longer  allowed  to 
introduce  any  and  every  type  of  person  from  the  street, 
and  place  them  near  the  throne  of  the  Madonna.  The 
fifteenth  century  still  accepted  from  Fiero  di  Cosimo 
an  old  dotard,  with  spectacles  on  nose  and  somewhat 
dirty  attire,  as  a  Saint  Antony.  Other  artists  had 
aimed  higher,  but  the  sixteenth  century  insisted  on  a 
striking  personality.  It  was  not  necessary  that  the 
type  should  be  ideal,  but  the  painter  had  to  select  his 
models.  Raphael,  who  represented  incomparable 
characters,  may  be  put  out  of  the  question,  but  even  in 
his  superficial  moments  Andrea  del  Sarto  never  gives 
us  the  mean  and  bourgeois  type,  and  Bartolommeo 
strains  every  nerve  in  constantly  renewed  attempts  to 
give  his  saints  the  expression  of  power. 

More  might  be  said  as  to  the  relations  of  the  persons 
who  belong  to  the  family  of  Mary  and  her  Child ;  we 
might  note  how  the  former  playmate,  John,  becomes 
reverential  and  kneels  in  adoration;  but  we  will  con- 
fine ourselves  to  a  few  remarks  about  the  angels  of 
the  new  century. 

1  Others  may  express  an  opinion  as  to  the  share  in  these  pheno- 
mena which  may  be  ascribed  to  the  influence  of  Savonarola. 
There  is  some  risk  of  making  too  many  issues  depend  on  this  one 
personality.  We  are  dealing  with  a  general  and  not  an  exclu- 
sively religious  manifestation. 


320      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


The  Cinquecento  took  over  from  its  predecessor 
two  forms  of  angels:  the  child-angel  and  the  half- 
grown  girl-angel.    Every  one  will  at  once  recall  most 


Madonna  and  Child  with  Angels,  by  Filippino  Lippi. 


charming  examples  of  the  latter  by  Botticelli  and 
Filippino.  Such  figures  were  sometimes  intro- 
duced into  the  picture  bearing  tapers,  as  in  Bot- 
ticelli's "tondo"  at  Berlin,  where  one  of  them 
is  looking  at  the  flickering  flame  with  a  naive  stu- 


The  New  Feeling 


321 


pidity  of  expression;  sometimes  they  are  allowed 
to  linger  round  the  Bambino  as  flower-girls  or 
singers,  as  in  the  daintily  conceived  early  picture 
by  Filippino  in  the  Corsini  Gallery,  which  we  re- 
produce. One  of  the  girl-angels,  with  downcast 
eyes,  timidly  offers  a-  basket  of  flowers  to  the  Infant 
Christ,  and  while  He  rolls  over  delightedly  to  one 
side  and  grasps  at  the  present,  two  other  angels 
gravely  sing  a  hymn  from  music,  although  one  glances 
up  for  a  moment,  and  a  smile  passes  over  her  features. 
Why  did  the  sixteenth  century  never  return  to  such 
motives?  The  new  angels  have  lost  the  charm  of 
youthful  timidity,  and  have  thrown  off  their  ingenuous 
naivete.  They  now  have  some  share  in  the  kingly 
state  and  behave  themselves  with  corresponding 
dignity.  The  spectator  is  no  longer  to  be  allowed 
to  smile. 

In  representing  the  movement  of  flying  angels 
the  Cinquecento  reverts  to  the  old  solemn  hovering 
familiar  in  Gothic  art.  Those  incorporeal  figures  with 
the  beautiful  outlines  of  flowing  drapery  had  become 
incomprehensible  to  the  realism  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. It  required  a  more  matter-of-fact  movement, 
and  represented  the  angels  not  as  hovering,  but 
as  walking  or  running  on  a  small  substratum  of 
cloud.  Hence  arose  those  figures  of  hurrying  girls 
who,  in  a  fashion  neither  beautiful  nor  dignified, 
but  very  convincing,  throw  out  their  legs  and 
naked  heels.  Attempts  to  represent  the  "  swim- 
ming" flight  were  once  more  revived,  with  vigor- 
ous action  of  the  legs,  but  it  was  High  Art  which 
first  discovered  that  expression  for  deliberate  and 
21 


322       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


solemn  movement  in  the  air  which  has  since  been 
accepted. 1 

The  chief  remark  to  be  made  about  the  child-angels 
is  that  they  too  are  allowed  to  share  in  the  childishness 
of  the  Bambino.  They  are  only  expected  to  be 
children,  and  yet,  to  suit  the  occasion,  the  prevailing 
lofty  and  sustained  atmosphere  of  the  picture  may 
be  reflected  in  them.  The  putto  with  his  tablet 
in  the  Madonna  di  Foligno  produces  a  more  serious 
impression,  though  he  is  not  praying,  than  the  two 
small  naked  boys,  for  example,  on  Desiderio's  taber- 
nacle (S.  Lorenzo),  who  devoutly  draw  near  to  Christ 
in  the  act  of  blessing.    No  one  can  accept  the  scene 

1  The  mediaeval  flying  figures  are  directly  derived  from  the 
antique.  The  Renaissance,  by  the  invention  of  the  running 
scheme,  reverted  unconsciously  to  the  style  of  movement  in 
flight  with  which  the  most  ancient  Greek  art  had  begun,  and 
which  is  known  in  archaeology  as  the  "running  with  bent  knee" 
scheme  (the  type  is  seen  in  the  Nike  of  Delos,  to  which  the  angel 
by  Benedetto  da  Majano  in  the  illustration  on  page  23  may  be 
compared).  The  more  perfect  scheme,  derived  from  the  motion 
of  the  swimmer,  continued  for  a  time  side  by  side  with  the  other 
(cf.  Studniczka,  Die  Sieges  got  tin,  1898,  p.  13),  and  there  are  paral- 
lels for  this  also  in  more  modern  art.  Perugino's  A  ssumption  of  the 
Virgin  in  the  Academy  of  Florence  shows  both  types  side  by  side, 
and  while  Botticelli  and  Filippino  make  their  angels  hold  them- 
selves upright  in  the  air,  one  can  still  find  in  Ghirlandajo's  works 
traces  of  the  old  running  angel.  Signorelli  is  possibly  the  one  of 
the  Quattrocentists  who  gained  the  most  perfect  form  from  the 
new  scheme  (Frescoes  in  Orvieto) ;  Raphael  relied  on  him  in  his 
Disputa.  Later,  increased  movement  and  foreshortening  be- 
came usual,  as  well  as  the  motives  of  figures  issuing  from  the 
depths -of  the  picture,  or  "head-foremost,"  examples  of  which 
are  to  be  found  in  the  four  Sibyls  in  S.  Maria  della  Pace  and  the 
Madonna  del  Baldacchino. 


The  New  Feeling 


323 


as  anything  but  a  playful  one.  Those  youthful 
musicians  at  the  feet  of  the  Madonna,  who  play  the 
guitar  and  other  instruments  with  skill  and  vigour,  are 
well  known  from  Venetian  pictures.  The  Cinque- 
cento  considered  this  motive  unsuitable  also,  and 
entrusted  the  musical  accompaniment  of  a  sacred 
assembly  to  older  hands,  that  the  loftiness  of  the 
sentiment  might  be  sustained.  The  most  popular 
example  of  the  childish  putti  of  the  new  century 
is  given  by  the  two  figures  at  the  base  of  the  Sistine 
Madonna, 

7 

Given  this  manifest  tendency  to  treat  an  altar- 
piece  more  reverentially  and  to  sever  the  over-close 
connection  between  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly 
elements,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  miraculous 
was  immediately  adopted,  not  only  by  means  of 
aureoles  and  nimbi,  but  by  an  ideal  representation  of 
events  which  hitherto  had  been  depicted  with  great 
realism  and  circumstantiality.1 

Fra  Bartolommeo  was  the  first  to  represent  the 
Madonna  hovering  in  the  air  when  she  appears  to  St. 
Bernard.  Andrea  del  Sarto  imitated  him  when  he 
depicted  the  angel  of  the  Annunciation  approaching 
on  clouds,  a  motive  for  which  he  had  thirteenth 
century  precedents.    Angels  on  clouds  are  introduced 

1  In  the  Quattrocento  we  encounter  such  inveterate  realists  as 
Francesco  Cossa  of  Ferrara,  who  could  never  be  persuaded  to 
give  the  angel  Gabriel  in  the  Annunciation  a  proper  aureole, 
but  fastened  a  tin  platter  to  his  head  (picture  in  Dresden). 


324      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


into  the  homely  atmosphere  of  a  lying-in  room 
(Birth  of  the  Virgin  by  Andrea,  15 14).  The  Quattro- 
cento preferred  to  place  its  Madonna  on  a  substan- 
tial throne,  but  after  the  end  of  the  fifteenth  century 
Mary  is  once  more  raised  to  the  skies,  and  appears  as 
the  Madonna  in  glory,  an  antiquated  motive  which 
in  the  Sistine  Madonna  underwent  an  unexpected  and 
unique  transformation  in  the  direction  of  momentary 
action. 

8 

This  exaltation  of  the  subject  to  supernatural 
aspects  brings  us  to  the  more  general  question  of  the 
relation  of  the  new  art  to  reality.  Reality  was  the 
first  thought  of  the  fifteenth  century.  For  example, 
whether  the  result  were  beautiful  or  not,  the  Christ 
of  the  Baptism  had  to  stand  with  His  feet  in  the 
stream.  Once  or  twice  some  idealist  of  the  minor 
schools  had  disregarded  this  necessity,  and  had  al- 
lowed the  feet  of  the  Lord  to  rest  on  a  level  with  the 
water  (as  P.  Franceschi,  London),  but  the  Florentines 
would  not  have  tolerated  this.  And  yet  with  the  new 
century  this  ideal  conception  was  naturally  adopted 
in  representing  the  scene,  and  the  same  process  took 
place  with  other  subjects.  Michelangelo  made  the 
Mary  of  his  Pietd  quite  youthful,  and  disregarded 
all  protests  on  this  point.  The  diminutive  table  in 
Leonardo's  Last  Supper,  and  the  impossible  boats  in 
Raphael's  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,  serve  further 
to  show  how  reality  was  no  longer  the  decisive  factor 
for  the  new  era  of  thought,  and  how  the  unnatural  was 
tolerated  when  it  helped  the  artistic  effect. 


The  New  Feeling  325 


When,  however,  people  talk  of  the  Idealism  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  they  usually  mean  something 
quite  different;  they  imagine  a  general  revolt  from 
limitations  of  place,  time,  or  individuality,  and  the 
antithesis  of  Idealism  and  Realism  is  supposed  to 
characterise  the  essential  difference  between  Classical 
and  Quattrocentist.  The  definition  is  not  apt.  No 
one  probably  would  have  understood  these  ideas  had 
they  been  formulated  at  that  time,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  seventeenth  century  that  these  antitheses 
really  made  themselves  felt.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
Cinquecento  the  tendency  was  to  elevate,  not  to 
repudiate  the  old  art. 

The  fifteenth  century  never  treated  Biblical  stories 
realistically  in  the  sense  of  attempting  to  transfer  the 
incidents  to  modern  life,  as  modern  painters  do.  The 
object  in  view  was  to  give  a  representation  appealing 
largely  to  the  senses,  and  to  this  end  familiar  motives 
were  employed,  though  the  painter  reserved  the  right 
to  go  beyond  them  so  soon  as  this  seemed  necessary 
for  his  purpose. 

On  the  other  hand  the  sixteenth  century  was  not 
ideal  in  the  sense  of  avoiding  contact  with  the  natural 
world,  and  aspiring  to  produce  a  monumental  effect 
at  the  cost  of  definite  characterisation.  Its  trees 
were  rooted  in  the  old  soil,  though  they  attained  a 
greater  height.  Art  was  still  illustrative  of  the  life 
of  the  day,  but  it  thought  that  the  increased  demand 
for  dignified  presentment  could  be  satisfied  only  by  a 
selection  of  types,  dresses,  and  architecture  which 
could  hardly  be  brought  together  in  reality. 

It  would  be  completely  misleading  to  identify  this 


326       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


classical  art  with  the  imitation  of  the  antique.  The 
antique  may  speak  to  us  more  distinctly  from  the 
works  of  the  Cinquecento  than  from  those  of  the  older 
generation — this  question  will  be  treated  in  a  different 
connection — but,  judging  by  their  aim,  the  Classicists 
are  not  essentially  different  from  the  Quattrocentists 
in  their  attitude  towards  antiquity. 

It  is  necessary  to  particularise.  Let  us  begin  with 
the  treatment  of  locality.  We  know  how  much  space 
Ghirlandajo  devoted  to  buildings  of  every  sort  in  his 
pictures.  Does  he  show  us  Florence?  One  certainly 
has  a  view  here  and  there  of  some  street  in  the  city,  but 
he  draws  on  his  imagination  for  his  courts  and  halls. 
They  are  structures  such  as  were  never  actually  built ; 
all  that  concerned  him  was  the  magnificence  of  the 
impression  produced.  The  sixteenth  century  re- 
tained this  standpoint,  but  its  ideas  as  to  what  was 
beautiful  were  different.  Extensive  views  of  a  city 
and  vistas  of  landscape  were  abandoned,  not  because 
artists  wished  to  produce  a  vague  and  indefinite  im- 
pression, but  because  no  further  interest  was  taken  in 
such  matters.  The  ubiquite  of  French  Classicism  had 
no  part  in  their  conceptions. 1 

The  desire  to  idealise  locality  leads  to  results  which 
certainly  strike  us  as  strange.  A  story  like  the 
Visitation,  in  which  one  expects  to  see  the  entrance 
to  a  house,  the  home  of  Elizabeth,  is  represented  by 
Pontormo  in  such  a  way  that  the  scene  shows  only  a 

1  Raphael,  however,  permitted  a  Ferrarese  to  paint  an  elabor- 
ate landscape  in  his  Madonna  di  Foligno,  erroneously  supposed  to 
be  Foligno.  The  Madonna  di  Monteluce  shows  the  Temple  of 
Tivoli.    Other  cases  will  suggest  themselves. 


The  New  Feeling 


327 


large  niche  with  steps  leading  up  to  it.  But  here  we 
must  remember  that  Ghirlandajo  in  his  picture  of  the 
Visitation  (Louvre)  took  an  archway  for  his  back- 
ground, a  setting  not  at  all  calculated  to  elucidate  the 
text,  and  it  may  be  said  generally  that  on  these  ques- 
tions our  Northern  taste  is  not  a  trustworthy  guide. 
The  Italians  have  a  faculty  for  looking  to  the  in- 
dividuality of  a  man,  and  for  disregarding  all  environ- 
ment as  mere  detail,  which  is  incomprehensible  to  us, 
who  insist  on  some  real  correspondence  between  figure 
and  place.  For  us,  a  mere  niche,  as  the  architectural 
background  to  a  Visitation,  deprives  the  scene  of  all 
convincing  vitality,  although  we  perceive  the  gain  in 
formal  effect;  for  the  Italians,  any  background  will 
serve,  if  only  the  figures  are  vital.  The  vagueness  of 
locality  or,  as  we  may  say,  the  want  of  reality,  can 
never  have  been  felt  by  Pontormo  as  we  are  disposed 
to  feel  it. 1 

A  still  higher  degree  of  idealism  led  to  the  placing 
of  the  Madonna  on  a  pedestal,  as  if  she  were  a  statue. 
Even  that  was  a  concession  of  the  higher  style  to  form, 
and  must  not  be  judged  byNorthern  ideas  of  reverence. 
The  Italian  was  able,  in  this  instance  also,  to  overlook 
the  disagreeable  effect  which  the  motive,  considered 
materially,  must  have  produced,  and  he  adopted 
the  same  line  of  thought  in  cases  where,  for  the 
sake  of  effect,  a  cube  or  some  such  object  was  placed 

1  Every  foreigner  is  struck  by  the  incidental  shocks  to  the 
sense  of  illusion  so  frequent  on  the  Italian  stage.  We  may  note, 
in  this  connection,  the  historically  irrevelant  personages  who  are 
found  in  the  works  of  Pontormo  and  others,  a  tendency  observed 
long  before  the  sixteenth  century. 


328       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


under  the  feet  of  the  figure  without  any  further 
explanation. 

Leonardo  has  incidentally  raised  a  note  of  warning 
against  the  employment  of  modern  costumes;  they 
were,  he  said,  usually  inartistic,  and  only  good  enough 
for  sepulchral  monuments.1  He  advises  antique 
drapery,  not  in  order  to  give  the  picture  an  antique 
tone,  but  merely  because  the  figure  is  thus  shown  to 
better  advantage.  Nevertheless  Andrea  del  Sarto 
ventured,  later,  to  paint  his  fresco  of  the  Birth  of  the 
Virgin  (15 14)  as  a  modern  picture  of  domestic  life, 
perhaps  showing  himself  here  more  consistent  than 
any  one  of  his  predecessors,  for  even  Ghirlandajo 
mixes  ideal  motives  from  the  antique  with  costumes 
of  the  day,  as  was  customary  still  later.  Similar 
classic  representations  of  the  life  of  the  day  are  shown 
in  the  pictures  of  the  life  of  the  Virgin  by  Sodoma  and 
Pacchia  at  Siena.  The  one  example  of  Raphael's 
frescoes  in  the  Heliodorus  Stanza  will  be  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  aesthetics  of  that  day  were  untouched  by 
questions  as  to  whether  motives  from  contemporary 
daily  life  were  compatible  with  the  monumental  style, 
or  whether  it  would  be  better  to  transpose  the  theme 
into  some  higher  sphere  of  reality,  such  as  the  antique. 
The  era  of  Classical  Art  was  already  past  before  these 
scruples  were  felt. 

What  appears  strange  to  us  is  the  nude  and  the  half- 
nude.  Reality  seems  here  to  be  sacrificed  to  artistic 
exigencies,  and  an  ideal  world  is  created.  But  it  is  not 
difficult  to  prove  in  this  case  that  the  Quattrocento 
had  already  introduced  the  nude  into  historical  pic- 

1  Leonardo,  Trattato  delta  Pittura. 


The  New  Feeling  329 


tures,  and  that  Alberti  had  even  prescribed  such  an 
introduction.1  A  naked  man,  such  as  the  one  who 
sits  on  the  Temple-steps  in  Ghirlandajo's  Presentation, 
would  never  have  been  seen  in  the  Florence  of  that 
day,  in  spite  of  the  prevailing  freedom  of  manners. 
But  no  one  thought  of  finding  fault  with  it  in  the 
name  of  realism.  Nor  can  it  be  said  of  a  compo- 
sition like  the  Incendio  del  Borgo  that  it  marks  a 
fundamental  departure  from  Quattrocentist  tradition. 
The  Cinquecento  gives  more  nude  forms,  but  this  is 
all. 

Allegorical  figures  especially  proclaim  the  new 
tendency.  One  garment  after  another  was  taken 
away  from  them;  on  the  tombs  of  the  prelates  by  A. 
Sansovino  an  unhappy  Faith  is  seen  seated  in  an 
antique  bathing-cloak,  and  it  is  really  impossible  to 
divine  the  meaning  of  the  disrobed  body.  This 
indifference  to  the  purport  of  the  figure  is  inexcusable, 
but  even  in  earlier  times  these  allegories  were  not 
national  or  familiar  types. 

The  display  of  nude  limbs  becomes  absolutely  un- 
pleasant in  sacred  figures.  Michelangelo's  Madonna 
in  the  Tribuna  must  not,  however,  be  taken  as  a 
typical  example  of  the  age.  But  it  must  at  least  be 
allowed  that,  if  any  one  person  may  be  held  responsi- 
ble for  great  transformations  in  the  hisory  of  culture, 
it  was  Michelangelo,  who  introduced  the  universal 
heroic  style  and  caused  considerations  of  place  and 
time  to  be  disregarded.  His  idealism  is  in  every  re- 
spect of  the  vastest  and  most  unconventional  order. 
He  convulsed  the  existing  world  of  realities,  and  de- 

1  L.  B.  Alberti,  Three  Books  of  Painting. 


330       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


prived  the  Renaissance  of  its  beautiful  delight  in 
itself. 

The  last  word  in  the  question  of  realism  and  idealism 
will  not,  however,  deal  with  costume  and  locality.  All 
the  romancing  of  the  fifteenth  century  in  architecture 
and  dress  is,  after  all,  harmless  trifling;  the  convincing 
expression  of  reality  depends  on  the  individual  charac- 
ter of  the  heads  and  figures  in  the  picture.-  Ghir- 
landajo  is  free  to  add  any  accessory  details  that  he 
chooses:  on  seeing  his  Zacharias  in  the  Temple  the 
spectator  says:  "The  place  where  these  people  stand 
must  be  Florence."  Do  painters  still  produce  this 
impression  in  the  sixteenth  century?  It  is  evident 
that  portraits  appear  more  rarely  in  pictures.  One 
feels  less  prompted  to  ask  whom  this  or  that  figure 
represents.  The  interest  in  the  characteristics  of 
individuals  and  the  capacity  to  reproduce  them  did  not 
disappear — the  reader  need  but  recall  the  portrait- 
groups  of  the  Heliodorus  frescoes  or  the  pictures  by 
Sarto  in  the  Annunziata — but  the  time  was  past  when 
portrait  heads  were  looked  upon  as  the  highest  artistic 
achievement,  and  any  occurrence  was  in  itself  im- 
portant enough  to  justify  its  inclusion  in  a  historical 
picture.  As  soon  as  the  narrative  was  treated  seri- 
ously, and  the  rows  of  indifferent  spectators  were  dis- 
missed, the  situation  was  at  once  fundamentally 
changed.  Individualism  now  found  a  dangerous 
rival.  The  representation  of  emotion  became  a  pro- 
blem which  seemed  occasionally  to  replace  the  interest 
in  character.  The  movement  of  the  body  can  be  made 
so  interesting  that  the  head  may  be  overlooked  to  a 
certain  extent.    Figures  possess. a  new  value  as  factors 


The  New  Feeling 


33i 


of  the  composition  since,  without  any  pronounced 
interest  of  their  own,  they  become  important  in  con- 
nection with  the  whole,  as  mere  indications  of  forces 
in  the  architectonic  scheme,  and  these  effects  of  form, 
of  which  the  earlier  generation  knew  nothing,  lead 
of  themselves  to  purely  superficial  characterisation. 
Such  general  types  of  heads  had  always  been  found  in 
the  fifteenth  century — they  are  very  plentiful  in 
Ghirlandajo's  works — and  no  fundamental  antagon- 
ism between  the  old  and  the  new  art,  in  obedience  to 
which  the  latter  had  turned  away  from  individual- 
isation,  can  be  inferred  therefrom.  Portrait  motives 
became  rarer,  but  it  is  not  the  case  that  the  Classical 
Style  postulated  a  universal  ideal  humanity.  Even 
Michelangelo,  who  here  once  more  adopts  a  position 
of  his  own,  still  introduced  many  realistic  heads  in  the 
earlier  scenes  in  the  Sistine  Chapel  (in  the  Flood,  for 
example).  His  interest  in  the  individual  then  begins 
to  wane,  while  Raphael,  who  in  the  first  Stanza  seldom 
went  beyond  general  types,  took  more  and  more 
interest  in  the  particular. 

But  there  is  another  question.  Was  the  individual 
conceived  and  represented  in  the  same  way  as  before? 
The  eagerness  to  reproduce  nature  to  the  minutest 
detail,  and  the  delight  in  reality  for  the  sake  of  reality, 
had  subsided.  In  the  picture  of  man  the  Cinque- 
cento  sought  to  present  his  greatness  and  importance, 
and  thought  to  attain  this  end  by  simplification,  and 
by  suppression  of  all  unessential  details.  It  was  not 
dimness  of  sight  that  made  it  overlook  certain  things, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  an  intensified  power  of  compre- 
hension.   The  loftiest  vision  is  that  which  idealises 


332       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  model  from  within ;  it  has  nothing  in  common  with 
the  beautification  of  the  object,  the  idealisation  of 
externals. 1 

It  may  be  fairly  assumed  that,  at  the  period  of 
great  art,  dissatisfaction  must  have  been  felt  now  and 
again  at  what  was  offered  by  nature.  Such  feelings 
are  difficult  to  discuss,  and  it  would  be  bold  to  define 
the  difference  between  two  eras,  such  as  the  Quattro- 
cento and  Cinquecento,  by  categorical  statements, 
whether  positive  or  negative.  There  are  hundreds  of 
steps  in  the  conscious  transformation  of  the  model 
after  the  artist  takes  it  in  hand.  A  statement  made 
by  Raphael,  at  the  time  when  he  was  working  at 
his  Galatea,  has  come  down  to  us:  that  he  could  do 
nothing  with  models,  but  relied  on  the  idea  of  beauty 
which  occurred  to  him  spontaneously.2  Here  we 
have  an  authentic  proof  of  Raphael's  idealism,  but 
would  not  Botticelli  have  said  the  same,  and  is  not  his 
Venus  on  the  Shell  a  purely  imaginative  creation? 

Ideal  figures  and  heads  were  to  be  found  even  in 
the  "realistic"  Quattrocento;  everywhere  we  note 
how  gradually  differences  arose.  But  the  ideal  of 
course  fills  a  far  larger  space  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  aspirations  of  this  age  are  not  compatible  with 
the  intimacy  shown  in  the  past  century  with  ordinary 
life.    It  is  noteworthy  that  at  the  very  time  when  art 

1  In  Lomazzo,  Trattato  (1585),  p.  433,  the  following  remark  is 
made  on  the  style  of  portraits  by  the  great  masters:  "They 
always  brought  out  the  best  qualities  of  sitters."  (Usavano 
sempre  di  far  risplendere  quello  eke  la  natura  d'eccellente  aveva 
concesso  loro.) 

2  Guhl,  Kfinstlerbriefe,  1  2.  95. 


The  New  Feeling 


333 


of  itself  discovered  a  higher  beauty,  the  Church  also 
required  increased  dignity  for  the  chief  figures  of  the 
Christian  faith.  The  Madonna  was  no  longer  to  be 
any  ordinary  virtuous  woman,  whose  type  was  a  fa- 
miliar one  in  the  streets ;  she  had  become  a  being  who 
had  cast  off  all  traces  of  lowly  human  origin.  And 
ncxw  once  more  Italy  owned  minds  that  could  con- 
ceive the  ideal.  Michelangelo,  the  greatest  of  realists, 
was  also  the  greatest  of  idealists.  Endowed  with  all 
the  Florentine  faculty  for  characterisation,  he  was 
also  the  man  who  could  most  completely  renounce  the 
external  world  and  work  from  the  idea.  He  created 
his  own  world,  and  it  was  his  example,  though  he  must 
be  accounted  blameless  in  the  matter,  that  under- 
mined reverence  for  nature  in  the  coming  generation. 

One  last  remark  must  be  made  in  this  connection: 
an  increased  need  for  the  contemplation  of  the  beau- 
tiful was  felt  in  the  Cinquecento.  This  craving  was 
not  constant,  and  might  temporarily  disappear  before 
other  interests.  The  antecedent  art  of  the  Quattro- 
cento had  also  a  beauty  of  its  own,  but  seldom  gave 
it  perfect  form,  because  a  far  stronger  desire  urged 
it  towards  mere  expression,  and  the  characterisation 
of  individuals.  Donatello  may  once  more  be  cited. 
The  master  who  created  the  bronze  David  in  the 
Bargello  had  an  insatiable  appetite  for  ugliness;  he 
ventured  even  to  make  his  saints  repulsive,  because  a 
convincing  living  individuality  was  everything,  and, 
impressed  by  this,  the  public  no  longer  asked  if  a 
thing  was  beautiful  or  ugly.  The  Magdalen  in  the 
Baptistery  is  an  " oblong  emaciated  scarecrow'' 
{Cicerone,  ist.  ed.)  and  John  the  Baptist  is  a  withered 


334       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ascetic  (marble  figure  in  the  Bargello),  to  say  nothing 
of  the  figures  on  the  Campanile.  Towards  the  end  of 
the  century,  however,  it  is  noticeable  that  the  idea 
of  beauty  is  dawning,  and  in  the  Cinquecento  that 
general  transformation  of  types  appears  which  not 
only  replaces  the  lower  culture  by  a  higher,  but  banishes 
stereotyped  forms  because  they  are  unlovely.  T^he 
Magdalen  is  the  frail  beauty,  and  not  the  emaciated 
penitent,  and  the  Baptist  takes  on  the  strong,  virile 
beauty  of  a  man  who  has  grown  up  in  wind  and 
weather,  without  a  trace  of  privation  or  asceticism. 
The  youthful  St.  John,  again,  is  depicted  as  the  model 
of  a  perfectly  beautiful  boy,  and  became  in  this  form 
a  favourite  figure  of  the  epoch. 


The  youthful  St.  John  Preaching,  by  Raphael. 


If 


THE  NEW  BEAUTY 

When  a  new  style  is  said  to  have  arisen,  the  first 
thought  suggested  is  a  transformation  of  tectonic 
elements.  But  on  closer  investigation  we  shall  find 
that  it  was  not  only  the  environment  of  man,  the 
various  forms  of  architecture,  the  furniture,  and  the 
costumes  which  had  undergone  a  change,  but  man 
himself  and  his  corporeality*  and  it  is  in  this  new  con- 
ception of  the  body,  and  in  the  new  ideas  of  deport- 
ment and  movement,  that  the  real  essence  of  a  style 
consists.  Far  more  importance,  must  be  attached  to 
this  conception  than  it  possesses  in  modern  days.  In 
our  age  styles  are  changed  as  quickly  as  one  changes 
from  one  costume  to  another  at  a  masquerade.  But 
this  eradication  of  styles  only  dates  from  our  century, 
and  we  have  properly  no  longer  any  right  to  speak  of 
styles;  we  should  discuss  only  fashions. 

The  new  corporeality  and  the  new  movement  of 
the  Cinquecento  manifest  themselves  clearly  when 
we  compare  such  a  work  as  Sarto's  Birth  of  the 
Virgin  (15 14)  with  the  frescoes  of  Ghirlandajo  and  his 
lying-in-rooms.  The  gait  of  the  women  has  quite 
changed.  Instead  of  a  stiff,  mincing  step  there  is  a 
dignified  progression;  the  tempo  has  slowed  down 
to  an  andante  maestoso.     There  are  no  longer  any 

335 


336       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


short  quick  bends  of  the  head  or  limbs,  but  slow  and 
complete  turns  of  the  body,  and  instead  of  sprawling 
attitudes  and  angular  outlines  there  are  easy  positions 
and  sustained  rhythmic  curves.  The  lean  figures  cf 
the  early  Renaissance  with  their  sharp  joints  no  longer 
realise  the  ideal  of  beauty;  Sarto  depicts  magnifi- 
cently modelled  forms  and  splendidly  developed  necks. 
The  drapery  falls  in  heavy  masses  sweeping  the 
ground,  whereas  Ghirlandajo  painted  short  stiff 
dresses  with  tightly-fitting  sleeves.  Garments,  which 
formerly  gave  expression  to  rapid  muscular  move- 
ment, were  now  intended  by  their  fulness  to  give 
an  effect  of  reticence  in  action. 

•i 

The  movement  in  the  second  half  of  the  fifteenth 
century  is  dainty,  and  often  affected.  When  the 
Madonna  has  the  Child  in  her  arms,  she  usually  thrusts 
out  the  point  of  her  elbow,  and  extends  the  little 
finger  of  the  hand  with  which  she  fastidiously  holds 
the  Babe.  Ghirlandajo  is  not  one  of  the  subtler 
artists,  but  he  completely  assimilated  this  mannerism. 
Even  a  painter  of  such  powerful  individuality  as 
Signorelli  makes  concessions  to  the  prevailing  taste, 
and  aims  at  graceful  effects  by  unnaturally  refined 
methods.  The  Mother,  worshipping  the  Child,  does 
not  clasp  her  hands  simply;  only  the  two  first  fingers 
touch,  while  the  others  are  separated  and  point 
upwards. 

Sensitive  persons  like  Filippino  seem  absolutely  to 
shrink  from  the  suggestion  of  grasping  any  object 


22 


338       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 

firmly.  Suppose  a  holy  monk  has  to  hold  a  book,  or 
the  Baptist  his  cross;  they  are  represented  as  merely 


Tobias  with  the  Angel,  by  Verrocchio  (?) 
(Or  perhaps  Botticini.) 


touching  these  objects.  So  also  Raffaellino  del 
Garbo  or  Lorenzo  di  Credi:  St.  Sebastian  holds  out  his 
arrow  between  two  fingers  with  a  conscious  daintiness, 
as  if  he  were  offering  a  pencil. 

The  standing  figures  sometimes  look  as  if  they  were 


The  New  Beauty  339 


dancing,  and  this  unsteady  posture  produces  a  most 
unpleasant  effect  in  sculpture.  Benedetto  da  Ma- 
jano's  St.  John  in  the  Bargello  is  not  beyond  reproach 
in  this  respect.  One  looks  at  it  with  a  sincere  longing 
for  the  firm  tread  of  the  next  generation.  Even  the 
reeling  Bacchus  of  Michelangelo  stands  better  on  his 
feet. 

A  complete  summary  of  this  affectation  of  taste  in 
the  late  Quattrocento  is  furnished  by  Verrocchio's  pic- 
ture of  the  Three  Archangels  (Academy,  Florence), 
with  which  the  Tobias  in  London  may  be  coupled.  In 
the  presence  of  this  elaborate  ambling,  the  thought  in- 
voluntarily suggests  itself  that  an  ancient  and  delicate 
style  is  breaking  up,  and  that  we  are  face  to  face  with 
the  phenomenon  of  a  decadent  archaism.  The  six- 
teenth century  brings  back  firmness,  simplicity,  and 
natural  movement.  Gesture  grows  calmer.  Petty 
daintinesses,  artificial  stiffness  and  strutting  are  dis- 
carded. Andrea  del  Sarto's  Madonna  delle  Arpie, 
standing  so  firmly  and  strongly  on  her  feet,  presents 
quite  a  new  spectacle,  and  one  can  almost  believe  that 
she  is  really  able  to  carry  the  heavy  Boy  on  one  arm. 
The  way  in  which  she  has  propped  the  book  against 
her  thigh,  and  rests  her  hand  on  the  edge,  so  that  a 
large  and  coherent  design  is  formed,  is  a  magnificent 
example  of  Cinquecento  style.  Movement  every- 
where shows  fresh  force  and  energy.  Let  us  take 
Raphael's  Madonna  di  Foligno.  It  seems  hardly 
credible  that  we  should  have  to  go  back  to  Donatello 
to  find  an  arm  and  a  hand  which  grasp  as  firmly  as 
those  of  the  St.  John  in  this  picture. 

The  turn  of  the  body  and  the  inclination  of  the  head 


340       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


have  something  indecisive  about  them  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  as  if  men  had  shrunk  from  vigorous  expres- 


Attendant  carrying  Fruit,  by  Ghirlandajo. 


sion.  But  now  pleasure  in  the  powerful  movements 
of  a  strong  nature  is  revived.  New  force  is  suddenly 
given  to  the  turn  of  a  head  or  to  an  outstretched  arm. 


The  New  Beauty  341 


There  are  traces  of  a  stronger  physical  life.  The  mere 
act  of  vision 
gains  an  un- 
known energy, 
and  the  six- 
teenth century 
i  s  once  more 
able  to  depict  a 
keen,  powerful 
gaze. 

The  Quattro- 
cento had  en- 
joyed the  highest 
degree  of  charm- 
ing movement 
in  the  light- 
footed  figures 
that  speed 
across  its  pic- 
tures. This 
mo t i  ve  was  used , 
and  with  good 
reason,  by  every 
artist.  The 
angel  with  the 
candle  ap- 
proaches swift- 
ly, and  the  ser- 
vant, who  brings 
fruit  and  wine 

from  the  country  to  the  woman  recovering  from 
childbirth,  comes  bursting  into  the  room,  her  drap- 


Woman  carrying  Water,  by  Raphael. 


342       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


eries  blown  out  by  the  breeze.  This  figure,  so 
characteristic  of  the  age,  finds  its  Cinquecentist 
counterpart  in  the  water-carrier  of  the  Incendio  del 
Borgo.  The  whole  difference  in  the  idea  of  form 
lies  in  the  contrast  between  these  two  figures.  This 
woman  carrying  water,  who  supports  her  burden 
with  stalwart  arms  as  she  walks  along  quietly  erect, 
is  one  of  the  magnificent  creations  of  Raphael's 
mature  and  manly  sense  of  beauty.  The  kneeling 
woman  in  the  foreground  of  the  Transfiguration, 
with  her  back  to  the  spectator,  comes  of  a  kin- 
dred stock,  and  if  we  compare  with  her  a  similar 
figure  in  the  group  of  women  of  the  Heliodorus,  we 
have  a  standard  by  which  to  judge  the  development 
of  power  and  of  strong  and  simple  line  in  Raphael's 
last  style. 

On  the  other  hand,  nothing  is  more  intolerable  to 
the  new  taste  than  excessive  tension  and  laboured 
movement.  Verrocchio's  mounted  Colleoni  possesses 
energy  enough,  and  an  iron  strength,  but  this  does 
not  produce  beauty  of  movement.  Notions  of  aristo- 
cratic nonchalance  are  combined  with  the  new  ideal, 
which  sees  beauty  in  flowing  lines  and  absence  of  re- 
straint. In  Castiglione's  Cortigiano  a  remark  is  made 
about  riding,  which  may  appropriately  be  quoted  here. 
A  man  ought  not  to  sit  as  stiff  as  a  ramrod  on  his 
saddle  alia  Veneziana  (the  Venetians  were  reck- 
oned indifferent  riders),  but  quite  negligently;  dis- 
ciolto  is  the  word  used.  This,  of  course,  can  apply 
only  to  a  rider  without  armour.  A  man  lightly  clad 
can  sit  on  his  horse,  but  heavy  armour  requires  him 
almost  to  stand.    "  In  the  one  case  the  knees  are  bent, 


The  New  Beauty 


343 


in  the  other  they  are  kept  stiff. " 1  Art  confined  itself 
to  the  first  form  thenceforth.  Perugino  had  once 
shown  the  Florentines  what  soft  and  pleasing  move- 
ment was.  His  motive  of  a  standing  figure  with  the 
leg  on  which  there  is  no  weight  thrown  out  to  the  side, 
and  with  a  corresponding  inclination  of  the  head,  was  in 
his  day  a  novelty  in  Florence.  Tuscan  grace  was  more 
sprawling  and  angular,  and  though  others  occasionally 
approached  him  in  motive,  no  painter  could  show 
such  softness  of  line.  But  the  sixteenth  century 
abandoned  this  motive.2  Raphael,  who  as  a  young 
man  had  absolutely  revelled  in  it,  never  recurred  to  it 
later.  We  can  imagine  Michelangelo's  scorn  of  such 
poses.  The  new  'motives  are  more  concentrated, 
more  strict  in  outline.  Apart  from  the  emotional 
expansion  that  had  taken  place,  the  beauty  of  Peru- 
gino was  no  longer  adequate,  since  it  failed  to  satisfy 
the  taste  for  mass.  Men  desired,  not  the  remote  and 
isolated,  but  the  compact  and  firm.  In  this  way  a 
series  of  movements  of  hand  and  arm  were  trans- 
formed; the  arms  crossed  on  the  breast  in  prayer, 
for  instance,  became  a  characteristic  motive  of  the 
new  century. 

2 

It  seems  as  if  all  at  once  a  new  race  of  beings  had 
sprung  up  in  Florence.  Rome  had  always  possessed 
the  full  massive  forms  which  had  become  the  artists' 

1  Pomponius  Gauricus,  Be  Sculptura. 

8  It  occurs  in  Sansovino's  group  of  the  Baptism  of  Christ,  be- 
gun in  1502,  but  is  already  modified  here. 


Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Venus,  by  Lorenzo  di  Credi. 


ideal,  but  they 
may  have  been 
rarer  in  Tus- 
cany. In  any 
case,  artists 
painted  as  if  in 
Quattrocentist 
Florence  no  such 
models  were 
ever  seen  as 
those  Andrea 
del  Sarto  shows 
somewhat  later 
in  his  Florentine 
women.  The 
taste  of  the  early 
Renaissance  in- 
clined to  unde- 
veloped forms, 
and  slim,  agile 
figures.  The 
angular  grace 
and  the  salient 
outlines  of  youth 
had  a  greater 
charm  than  the 
rounded  abund- 
ance of  woman- 
hood or  the  ripe 
s  t rength  of 
manhood.  The 
girl-angels  of 


The  New  Beauty  .  345 


Botticelli  and 
Filippino,  with 
their  sharp 
joints  and  lean 
arms,  represent 
the  ideal  of 
youthful  beauty, 
and  this  harsh- 
ness is  scarcely 
modified  in  Bot- 
ticelli's dancing 
Graces,  though 
they  typify  a 
riper  age.  The 
sixteenth  cen- 
tury had  a  dif- 
ferent standard. 
Even  Leonar- 
do's  angels  are 
softer ,  a  n  d  a 
Galatea  by  Ra- 
phael or  an  Eve 
by  Michelangelo 
are  beings  very 
different  to  the 
Venuses  of  the 
late  Quattro- 
cento. The 
neck,  formerly 
long  and  slim, 
resting  like  an 
inverted  funnel 


Venus,  by  Franciabigio  (?). 


346       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


on  the  sloping  shoulders,  becomes  round  and  short, 
while  the  shoulders  are  broad   and   strong.  The 


La  Bella  Simonetta,  by  Piero  di  Cosimo. 


straining  action  disappears.  The  limbs  assume  a  full, 
massive  form.  Once  more  the  ideal  of  beauty  requires 
the  rounded  bust  and  wide  hips  of  the  antique,  and 
the  eye  demands  large,  harmonious  surfaces.  The 


The  New  Beauty  347 


Cinquecentist  counterpart  to  Verrocchio's  David  is 
Benvenuto  Cellini's  Perseus.  The  lean,  supple  boy 
is  no  longer  considered  beautiful,  and  if  an  artist 
depicts  a  figure  in  early  youth,  he  gives  it  roundness 
and  fulness.  Raphael's  figure  in  the  Tribuna,  of  the 
youthful  St.  John  seated  is  an  instructive  example, 
showing  how  mature  forms  were  given  to  a  boyish 
body,  even  to  an  unnatural  degree. 

The  articulation  of  the  beautiful  body  is  clearly 
shown.  The  Cinquecento  had  such  a  sense  of  structure 
and  was  so  bent  on  expressing  the  fabric  that  all  charm 
of  detail  became  insignificant  in  comparison.  Ideal- 
isation was  soon  prevalent  in  this  sphere,  and  the 
parallel  between  the  nude  study  by  Lorenzo  di  Credi 
(in  the  Uffizi),  and  the  ideal  figure  by  Franciabigio 
in  the  Borghese  Gallery,  are  instructive  in  more  than 
one  respect. 

The  heads  become  large  and  broad;  the  horizontal 
lines  are  accentuated.  A  firm  chin  and  full  cheeks 
are  admired,  and  there  must  be  nothing  dainty  and 
small  about  the  mouth.  Formerly  a  high  polished 
forehead  was  admired  as  a  most  beautiful  feature  in  a 
woman's  face  (la  fronte  superba,  Politian  says) 
and  the  hair  over  the  brow  was  sometimes  plucked 
out  in  order  that  this  charm  might  be  displayed  as 
much  as  possible.  A  low  forehead  appealed  to  the 
Cinquecentist  as  the  more  noble  form,  since  it  was 
felt  to  give  repose  to  the  face.  Even  in  the  eye- 
brows a  straighter,  quieter  line  was  now  adopted. 
No  longer  do  we  find  those  highly  arched  brows 
which  we  see  in  the  girlish  statues  of  Desiderio,  where 
in  the  half-laughing,  half-wondering  faces  the  brows 


348       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


are  drawn  up  even  higher,  suggesting  Polizian's  rhyme; 
they  all  show — 

.  .  nel  vol  to  meraviglia 
Con  fronte  crespa  e  rilevate  ciglia."  (Giostra.)1 

The  pert,  retrousse  nose  may  once  have  had  its 
admirers,  but  it  was  no  longer  fashionable,  and  the  por- 
trait-painter would  take  every  pains  to  smooth  down 
the  uneven  line,  and  to  give  it  a  straight  and  dignified 
shape.  That  which  is  now  called  a  noble  nose,  and 
which  is  recognised  as  such  in  antique  statues,  is  an 
ideal  which  revived  only  with  the  Classic  Age. 

There  is  beauty  in  all  that  gives  an  impression  of 
repose  and  power,  and  the  notion  of  "  regular  beauty  " 
may  have  been  formed  at  this  period,  with  which  it 
was  in  perfect  harmony.  "Regular  beauty  "  does  not 
mean  only  a  symmetrical  correspondence  between  the 
two  halves  of  the  face,  but  an  absolute  distinctness 
and  coherent  proportion  of  features,  difficult  to  de- 
fine in  detail,  but  at  once  discernible  in  the  general 
impression.  Portrait-painters  began  to  insist  on  this 
regularity,  and  more  and  more  was  expected  from 
them  in  the  second  generation  of  the  Cinquecento. 
What  smooth,  regular  features  Bronzino  paints  in 
some  of  his  undeniably  excellent  portraits ! 

Pictures  are  more  explicit  than  words  on  these 
points ;  an  instructive  parallel  may  be  drawn  between 
Piero  di  Cosimo's  Simonetta  and  the  so-called  Vittoria 

1  "Her  wonder  each  astonished  maiden  shows 
With  wrinkling  forehead  and  uplifted  brows. M 


The  New  Beauty  349 

Colonna  by  Michelangelo,1  both  ideal  types,  which 
epitomise  the  taste  of  the  two  periods.    The  fifteenth- 


Vittoria  Colonna  (so-called),  by  Michelangelo. 


century  busts  of  Florentine  maidens  have  no  parallel 
in  the  sixteenth  century.    The  Cinquecento  gallery 

1  Morelli  denies  Michelangelo's  authorship,  but  that  does  not 
affect  out  present  contention. 


35°       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


of  beauty  contains  none  but  nature  types,  e.  g.,  the 
Donna  Velata,  the  Dorothea  at  Berlin,  the  Fornarina 
of  the  Tribuna,  the  magnificent  female  figure  by 
Andrea  del  Sarto  at  Madrid,  etc.  Taste  reverted  to 
the  fully  developed  woman. 

3 

The  playful  fancy  of  the  fifteenth  century  let  loose 
all  its  caprices  in  the  treatment  of  the  hair.  Painters 
depicted  magnificent  coiffures  with  infinite  wealth 
of  plaits  and  braids  of  different  kinds,  sprinkled  with 
jewels  and  entwined  with  ropes  of  pearls.  This 
fantastically  exaggerated  adornment  must  be  dis- 
tinguished from  the  style  in  which  the  hair  was  really 
worn,  and  that  was  fanciful  enough.  The  tendency 
was  to  divide  and  separate,  and  to  produce  delicate 
details,  in  contrast  to  the  new  style,  which  aimed  at 
keeping  the  hair  together  in  a  mass,  and  preferred 
simplicity  of  form.  Even  in  ornamentation  it  did  not 
allow  the  jewels  to  produce  any  separate  effect,  but 
only  used  them  when  combined  in  a  harmonious 
design.  Loose,  flowing  hair-  was  superseded  by 
closely  bound  tresses.  The  waving  curls,  dear  to 
Ghirlandajo  and  his  contemporaries,  which  fall  down 
the  cheek  and  cover  the  ear,  disappear  at  once,  as  a 
merely  pretty  motive  which  detracts  from  the  clear- 
ness of  the  picture.  The  painter  insists  on  the  im- 
portance of  the  function  of  the  ear.  The  hair  on  the 
forehead  is  brought  in  a  simple  line  over  the  temples. 
Its  office  was  to  enframe  the  face,  whereas  the  Quat- 
trocento had  no  feeling  for  this  motive,  and  heightened 


The  New  Beauty  351 


the  unframed  forehead  beyond  its  natural  limits.  In 
this  older  style  the  vertical  tendency  was  further  em- 
phasised by  placing  a  jewel  on  the  top  of  the  fore- 
head, while  the  broad  Cinquecento  taste  preferred 
to  end  off  with  a  large  horizontal  line. 

And  so  the  change  of  style  progressed.  The  long, 
slender  neck  of  the  Quattrocentist  beauty,  which  had 
to  appear  free  and  supple,  required  ornaments  dif- 
ferent to  those  demanded  by  the  massive  forms  of  the 
sixteenth  century.  The  artist  no  longer  trifled  with 
single  gems,  hanging  on  a  thread,  but  painted  a  solid 
chain,  and  the  light,  close-fitting  necklace  becomes 
pendant  and  heavy. 

To  sum  up,  weighty  and  sober  effects  were  aimed  at, 
and  capricious  fancy  was  led  into  the  path  of  plain 
simplicity.  Voices  were  even  raised,  which  extolled 
hair  worn  in  natural  dishevelment,  and  not  a  few 
thought  that  the  complexion  was  more  beautiful  in  its 
natural  hue  {palidetta  col  suo  color  nativo)  than 
when  painted  red  and  white,  so  that  the  women  never 
changed  colour  after  they  had  once  made  their  morn- 
ing toilette.  Count  Castiglione  speaks  to  this  effect; 
a  noteworthy  reaction  against  the  gaudiness  and 
artificiality  of  the  later  Quattrocentist  fashions. 

Concerning  the  coiffure,  of  men  we  may  say  at  any 
rate  that  their  formerly  tousled  locks  were  now  brushed 
close  round  the  head.  In  the  portraits  by  Credi  or 
Perugino  the  hair  waves  as  if  stirred  by  a  gentle 
breeze,  and  this  was  an  intentional  effect  demanded 
by  the  elaborate  coquetry  of  the  style.  Pictures  of 
the  sixteenth  century  show  the  masses  of  hair  brought 
into  order  and  laid  smoothly  against  the  head. 


352       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


In  the  sixteenth  century  men  usually  allowed  their 
beards  to  grow.  It  added  to  the  impression  of  dignity. 
Castiglione  leaves  each  man  to  exercise  his  own  judg- 
ment in  this  matter.  In  his  own  portrait  by  Raphael 
he  wears  a  full  beard. 

The  new  inclination  speaks  still  more  clearly  and 
emphatically  in  the  costumes.  Clothing  is  the  direct 
expression  of  men's  conception  of  the  human  body  and 
of  its  movement.  The  Cinquecento  necessarily  had 
recourse  to  soft,  heavy  materials,  long,  full-sleeves, 
and  immense  trains.  This  is  seen  in  the  female  figures 
of  Andrea  del  Sarto's  Birth  of  the  Virgin  (15 14),  where, 
as  Vasari  expressly  states,  the  fashionable  costume  of 
the  day  is  represented.  It  is  not  our  intention  to 
examine  the  motives  in  detail;  the  important  points 
are  the  general  wish  for  fulness  and  weight  in  the 
clothing  of  the  body,  the  development  of  broad  lines, 
and  accentuation  of  hanging  and  trailing  effects, 
which  gave  stateliness  to  movement.  The  fifteenth 
century,  on  the  contrary,  emphasised  agility.  Short, 
tight-fitting  sleeves  which  left  the  wrist  free.  No 
exuberant  folds,  but  a  dainty  trimness.  One  or  two 
slashes  and  ribbons  on  the  under-sleeve,  otherwise 
nothing  but  narrow  hems  and  close  seams.  The 
Cinquecento  demands  heavy  stuffs  and  a  rustling 
fulness.  It  rejects  a  complicated  cut  and  petty  details. 
The  flowered  brocades  disappear  before  the  deep 
sweeping  folds  of  drapery.  Costume  is  determined  by 
a  system  which  looks  to  obtain  great  contrasts  of 
surface,  and  only  that  is  employed  which  produces  a 
general  effect,  and  does  not  require  close  inspection  to 
be  recognised.    Botticelli's  Graces  have  a  network 


The  New  Beauty  353 


over  their  breasts:  such  archaic  subtleties  are  as 
incomprehensible  to  the  new  generation  as  the  con- 
ceits of  fluttering  ribbons,  veils,  and  similar  gauzy 
objects.  Other  ideas  of  contact  prevail,  and  there 
is  no  longer  the  dainty  touching  with  the  tips  of 
the  fingers,  but  a  firm  grasp  with  the  whole  hand. 

4 

From  this  standpoint  we  must  glance  at  architecture 
and  its  new  form  in  the  Cinquecento.  This  again, 
like  clothing,  is  a  projection  of  man  and  his  sense  of 
corporeal  structure.  An  age  shows  what  it  wishes  to 
be  and  where  it  looks  for  value  and  importance  not  less 
accurately  in  the  rooms  which  it  builds  and  in  the 
forms  of  its  ceilings  and  walls,  than  in  the  fashion  of  its 
figures  and  their  movement.  The  Cinquecento  had  a 
peculiarly  strong  sense  of  the  relation  of  man  and 
architecture,  and  of  the  resonance  of  a  beautiful  in- 
terior. It  could  hardly  conceive  of  any  existence 
without  an  architectural  setting  and  basis. 

Architecture  also  becomes  impressive  and  serious. 
It  curbs  the  joyous  liveliness  of  the  early  Renaissance 
and  attunes  it  to  a  more  sober  measure.  The  various 
cheerful  decorations,  the  wide-spanned  arches  and  the 
slender  columns  disappear,  and  heavy  forms,  solemn 
proportions,  and  the  most  severe  simplicity  take  their 
place.  Taste  demands  spacious  rooms  and  echoing 
footsteps;  it  cares  only  for  great  ceremonials  and  re- 
jects trivial  amusements,  and  these  solemn  effects  seem 
incompatible  with  all  but  the  strictest  conformity  to 
law. 


354      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Ghirlandajo  gives  us  much  useful  information  as  to 
the  internal  decorations  of  Florentine  houses  at  the 
end  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  lying-in  room  in 
the  Birth  of  St.  John  probably  represents  with  tolerable 
accuracy  a  patrician  house,  with  pilasters  in  the  cor- 
ners, a  cornice  running  round  a  coffered  wooden 
ceiling  with  gilded  rosettes,  and  coloured  tapestry, 
hung  unsymmetrically  upon  the  wall.  Then  a  medley 
of  furniture,  useful  or  ornamental,  placed  about  with- 
out any  system.  The  beautiful  was  considered  to  be 
beautiful  in  any  place. 

The  Cinquecento  room  appears  stiff  and  cold  by 
comparison.  The  severe  architecture  of  the  exteriors 
seems  to  have  affected  the  interiors.  There  are  no 
elaborate  effects,  no  picturesque  corners.  Every- 
thing in  architecture  conforms  to  the  new  style,  not 
merely  in  form  but  in  decoration.  All  colour  is 
abandoned.  Such  is  the  room  in  Andrea  del  Sarto's 
Birth  of  the  Virgin,  of  15 14. 

Monochrome  is  adopted  as  more  compatible  with 
dignity  of  presentment.  Reticent  colour,  the  neutral, 
unobtrusive  tone,  is  demanded  in  place  of  loquacious 
brightness.  The  nobleman,  so  Count  Castiglione 
says,  should  usually  dress  in  dark,  unpretentious 
colours.  The  Lombards  alone  go  about  in  bright, 
elaborately  slashed  dresses.  Any  one  who  attempted 
to  do  so  in  Central  Italy  would  be  thought  mad.1 
Variegated  carpets  disappear  as  well  as  gaily-striped 

1  It  was  only  a  step  further  to  adopt  Spanish  dress.  The 
sympathy  with  the  Spanish  nature — "grave  e  riposato" —  is 
frequently  expressed  in  Castiglione's  book.  He  thought  the 
Spaniards  far  more  akin  to  the  Italians  than  the  mercurial  French. 


The  New  Beauty  355 


girdles  and  oriental  shawls.  The  taste  for  them  now 
seems  childish. 

All  colour  was  therefore  avoided  in  dignified  archi- 
tecture. It  disappears  entirely  from  fagades,  and  is 
only  very  sparingly  used  in  interiors.  The  idea  that 
noble  architecture  should  be  colourless  had  extensive 
after-effects,  and  many  ancient  monuments  suffered 
from  it,  so  that  we  are  obliged  to  reconstruct  the 
picture  of  the  Quattrocento  from  comparatively 
scanty  remains.  The  architectural  backgrounds  of 
Gozzoli  or  Ghirlandajo  are  full  of  information  on  this 
subject,  even  if  they  cannot  be  taken  literally  in  every 
detail.  Ghirlandajo  is  almost  insatiable  in  his  variety 
of  colours, — blue  friezes,  yellow  panels  on  pilasters, 
chequered  pavements, — yet  Vasari  praises  him  as  a 
promoter  of  simplicity,  because  he  abandoned  the  use 
of  gold  ornament  in  his  pictures. 1 

The  same  remarks  apply  to  sculpture.  A  promi- 
nent example  of  Quattrocentist  polychromy,  the  tomb 
by  Antonio  Rossellino  in  S.  Miniato,  has  already  been 
mentioned  {supra,  page  106) ;  the  tomb  of  Marsuppir.i 
by  Desiderio  in  S.  Croce,  which  as  we  see  it  now  is 
stripped  of  all  its  character,  must  have  been  another 
notable  example.  Traces  of  colour  are  found  on 
careful  examination,  and  in  our  age,  when  so  much  is 
restored,  it  would  be  a  meritorious  task  to  reclaim 
these  degenerates,  and  to  make  them  shine  once  more 
with  their  former  brightness.  Very  little  colour  is 
needed  to  produce  a  coloured  effect.    The  mere 

1  The  use  of  gold  was  more  firmly  established  among  the 
Umbrians  than  the  Florentines.  It  is  interesting  to  mark  its 
gradual  disappearance  in  Raphael's  works  in  the  Vatican. 


356      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


gilding  of  a  few  places  is  enough  to  prevent  the  white 
stone  from  appearing  colourless,  in  strong  contrast 
to  the  many-coloured  world  around.  The  relief  of 
the  Madonna  by  Antonio  Rossellino  in  the  Bargello 
is  treated  thus,  as  also  the  figure  of  St.  John  by  Bene- 
detto da  Majano.  A  gleam  of  colour  is  given  to  the 
hair  and  the  fur  garment  by  a  few  strokes,  without  any 
heavy  gilding.  Gold  blends  naturally  with  bronze, 
and  there  are  remarkably  beautiful  combinations  of 
bronze  and  marble  with  gold — for  instance,  the  tomb 
of  Bishop  Foscari  in  S.  Maria  del  Popolo  at  Rome, 
where  the  bronze  figure  of  the  deceased  lies  on  a  marble 
cushion  with  gold  decorations. 

Michelangelo  from  the  first  abandoned  colour,  and 
monochrome  was  therefore  at  once  adopted  all  along 
the  line.  Even  terracottas,  which  are  so  dependent 
on  the  embellishment  of  painting,  lost  their  colouring, 
as  we  find  in  the  works  of  Begarelli. 

I  cannot  endorse  the  often  repeated  assertion  that 
the  modern  reluctance  to  colour  sculpture  comes  from 
the  wish  to  imitate  antique  statues.  The  rejection 
of  colour  was  a  settled  matter  before  any  archaeo- 
logical purist  could  have  lighted  upon  this  idea,  and 
such  radical  changes  of  taste  are  not  usually  gov- 
erned by  historical  considerations.  The  Renaissance 
accepted  colour  as  an  element  of  the  antique,  as  long 
as  it  retained  colour  in  its  own  works,  and  all  antique 
monuments  when  represented  in  pictures  were  treated 
polychromatically.  From  the  very  moment  that  the 
desire  for  colour  ceased,  the  antique  also  was  deemed 
to  have  been  white,  but  it  cannot  be  said  that  it  orig- 
inated the  disuse  of  colour. 


The  New  Beauty  357 


5 

Each  generation  sees  in  the  world  that  which  is 
congenial  to  itself.  The  fifteenth  century  was  ob- 
viously bound  to  hold  a  standard  of  the  beauty  of  the 
visible  world  different  to  that  proper  to  the  sixteenth, 
for  it  regarded  it  with  different  eyes.  In  Politian's 
Giostra  we  find  in  his  description  of  the  garden  of 
Venus,  a  concise  expression  of  the  Quattrocentist  sense 
of  beauty.  He  speaks  of  the  bright  glades  and  the 
springs  of  clear  water,  he  names  the  many  beautiful 
colours,  the  flowers,  he  goes  from  one  to  the  other  and 
describes  them  in  long  enumeration,  without  any 
fear  of  wearying  the  reader  (or  listener) .  With  what 
daintiness  of  feeling  he  tells  of  the  little  green  meadow 
where 

"  Scherzando  tra  fior  lascive  aurette 
Fan  dolcemente  tremolar  l'erbette."  1 

The  flowery  meadow  was  thus  to  the  painter  a 
world  of  individuals,  whose  little  life  and  feelings  he 
shared.  It  is  recorded  of  Leonardo  that  he  once 
painted  a  bunch  of  flowers  in  a  vase  with  extraordinary 
skill.2  I  mention  this  one  case  as  typical  of  many 
pictorial  productions  of  the  age.  The  reflections  and 
sheen  on  jewels,  cherries,  and  metal  dishes  were  noted 
with  a  fresh  delicacy  of  perception,  derived  from  the 
pictures  of  the  Dutch  Quattrocentists.    This  peculiar 

1  Wanton  breezes  sporting  with  the  flowers  make  the  tiny 
blades  of  grass  quiver  sweetly. 

2  Vasari,  iii.,  25.  It  was  in  a  picture  of  the  Virgin.  Venturi 
quotes  the  passage  in  reference  to  the  "tondo"  (No.  433)  of  the 
Borghese  Gallery,  by  Lorenzo  di  Credi. 


358       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


preciosite  of  style  induced  painters  to  represent  John 
the  Baptist  holding  in  his  hand  a  glass  crucifix  with 
copper  rings.  Glittering  foliage,  bright  flesh- tints, 
and  white  cloudlets  on  an  azure  sky  were  favourite 
pictorial  refinements,  and  every  effort  was  made  to 
secure  the  greatest  brilliance  of  colour. 

The  sixteenth  century  knew  nothing  of  these  joys. 
The  bright  blending  of  beautiful  colours  had  to  give 
way  to  strong  shadows  and  skilful  effects  of  per- 
spective. Leonardo  makes  merry  over  the  painters 
who  were  unwilling  to  sacrifice  beautiful  colour- 
effects  to  modelling.  He  compares  them  to  orators 
who  use  fine  phrases  without  any  meaning. 1 

Quivering  blades  of  grass  and  the  reflections  of  a 
crystal  are  no  longer  subjects  for  Cinquecentist 
painters,  who  did  not  cultivate  minuteness  of  vision. 
They  realised  only  great  actions  and  represented  only 
the  great  phenomena  of  light.  Nor  was  this  all. 
Their  interest  in  the  world  became  more  and  more 
limited  to  the  human  figure.  It  has  been  already 
noted  how  the  painters  of  altar-pieces  and  historical 
pictures  concentrated  their  efforts  on  the  special 
effect  aimed  at,  and  refused  to  justify  the  popular 
taste  for  detail.  The  altar-piece  was  formerly  the 
spot  where  every  beautiful  object  under  heaven  might 
find  a  place,  and  in  pictorial  narrative  the  artist 
worked  not  as  a  "historical-painter"  merely,  but  also 
as  a  painter  of  architecture,  landscape,  and  genre. 
Such  interests  became  incompatible.    Even  where 

1  Trattato  delta  Pittura.  The  strengthening  of  the  effects  of 
shadow  both  in  architecture  and  sculpture  must  be  considered  as 
a  step  towards  the  disuse  of  colour. 


The  New  Beauty 


359 


there  was  no  attempt  at  dramatic  effect,  or  an  im- 
pression of  religious  solemnity,  in  idyllic  scenes  and 
prosaic  representations  of  secular  and  mythological 
subjects,  the  beauty  of  the  figures  swallows  up  almost 
every  other  consideration.  To  which  of  the  great 
classic  masters  would  one  have  entrusted  Leonardo's 
vase  of  flowers?  If  Andrea  del  Sarto  draws  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  it  is  dashed  in  perfunctorily,  as  if  he 
feared  to  destroy  the  purity  of  the  monumental  style. 1 
And  yet  he  sometimes  gives  us  a  beautiful  landscape. 
Raphael,  who,  at  any  rate  potentially,  was  perhaps  the 
most  versatile  of  them  all  from  the  picturesque  point 
of  view,  produced  little  in  this  domain.  The  means 
were  still  everywhere  to  hand,  but  everything  tended 
towards  an  exclusive  style  of  figure-painting,  which  did 
not  condescend  to  notice  any  subjects  but  figures.  It 
is  worthy  of  remark  that  a  native  of  Upper  Italy, 
Giovanni  da  Udine,  was  employed  in  Raphael's  atelier 
on  the  smaller  details  in  his  pictures.  Later,  the 
Lombard  Caravaggio  caused  a  positive  storm  in 
Rome  with  a  flower- vase ;  it  was  the  sign  of  a  new  art. 

If  a  Quattrocentist  like  Filippino  paints  Music 
(picture  in  Berlin),  as  a  young  woman,  who  is  decking 
the  swan  of  Apollo,  while  the  wind  makes  her  mantle, 
gay  with  the  bright  hues  of  the  Quattrocento,  flutter 
round  her,  the  picture  with  its  putti  and  animals, 
its  water  and  foliage,  has  all  the  charm  of  a  myth  ren- 
dered by  Bocklin.  The  sixteenth  century  would  have 
selected  only  the  sculpturesque  motive.    The  general 

1  There  was  now  a  difference  between  monumental  and  non- 
monumental.  Other  considerations  of  style  are  clearly  notice- 
able in  the  small  "Cassone"  pictures. 


360      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


feeling  for  nature  narrowed.  There  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  development  of  art  was  not  thereby  bene- 


Allegory,  by  Filippino  Lippi. 


fited.  The  High  Renaissance  stood  in  a  restricted 
domain,  and  there  was  considerable  danger  that  it 
would  exhaust  itself. 

The  tendency  towards  a  sculpturesque  style  coin- 
cides in  Italian  art  with  an  approximation  to  antique 
beauty.    There  is  an  inclination  to  assume  that  the 


The  New  Beauty  361 


wish  to  imitate  was  the  effectual  motive  in  both  cases, 
as  if  the  picturesque  world  had  been  abandoned  in 
favour  of  antique  statues.  But  one  must  not  judge 
from  the  analogies  of  our  historical  century.  If 
Italian  art  showed  a  new  impulse  at  its  apogee,  it  can 
have  been  due  only  to  a  development  from  within. 

6 

In  summing  up  we  must  once  more  speak  of  the 
relation  of  Italian  art  to  the  antique.  The  popular 
idea  is,  that  the  fifteenth  century  had  certainly  studied 
the  antique  monuments,  but  that  it  forgot  alien  in- 
fluences in  the  fervour  of  its  own  production,  whereas 
the  sixteenth  century,  less  gifted  with  a  strong  origi- 
nality, never  escaped  from  the  impression  once  re- 
ceived. This  argument  tacitly  assumes  that  both 
centuries  regarded  the  antique  in  the  same  light,  but 
the  assumption  is  not  unassailable.  If  the  Quattro- 
centist  eye  saw  effects  in  nature  other  than  those 
beheld  by  the  Cinquecentist,  it  follows  that,  in  pres- 
ence of  the  antique,  the  same  features  of  the  surface 
of  observation  were  not  impressed  upon  the  conscious- 
ness. Men  see  only  that  which  they  look  for,  and  a 
long  training,  such  as  cannot  be  presupposed  in  an  age 
artistically  productive,  is  required  to  overcome  this 
naivete  of  vision,  for  the  mere  impression  of  objects  on 
the  retina  is  not  sufficient.  A  more  correct  sup- 
position is  that,  moved  by  a  similar  desire  to  assimi- 
late the  antique,  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries 
were  bound  to  attain  different  results,  because  each 
understood  the  antique  differently,  i.  e.  sought  its  own 


362       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


image  therein.  But  if  the  Cinquecento  strikes  us  as 
more  antique,  the  reason  is  that  its  own  spirit  was  more 
akin  to  that  of  antiquity. 

The  relation  between  ancient  and  modern  is  most 
clearly  seen  in  Architecture,  where  one  cannot  doubt 
the  honest  intention  of  the  Quattrocentists  to  rein- 
troduce the  "good,  old  style,"  and  where  the  new 
works  are  nevertheless  so  unlike  the  old.  The  at- 
tempts of  the  fifteenth-century  architects  to  comply 
with  Roman  formulae  almost  give  one  the  impression 
that  the  antique  was  known  to  them  only  from  hear- 
say. They  adopt  the  idea  of  the  pillar,  the  arch,  and 
the  cornice,  but  their  way  of  constructing  and  com- 
bining these  features  makes  it  hard  to  imagine  that 
they  had  seen  Roman  ruins.  Yet  they  had  seen, 
admired,  and  studied  them,  and  were  convinced  that 
they  were  reproducing  antique  effects.  When  every 
detail  of  the  facade  of  S.  Marco  in  Rome,  built  in 
imitation  of  the  arcades  of  the  Colosseum,  became 
different,  i.  e.  Quattrocentist,  in  the  all-important 
matter  of  proportions,  this  result  was  not  due  to  any 
deliberate  deviation  from  the  model,  but  to  the  idea 
that  the  building  might  be  so  constructed  and  still  be 
antique.  Architects  borrowed  the  material  part  of 
the  system  of  form,  but  remained  quite  independent 
in  feeling.  It  is  an  instructive  task  to  investigate 
some  example,  such  as  the  antique  triumphal  arches, 
which  were  equally  available  for  imitation  in  early  and 
later  styles,  and  to  observe  the  attitude  of  the  Re- 
naissance, how  it  passed  by  the  classical  model  of  the 
Arch  of  Titus,  and  adopted  archaic  methods  of  ex- 
pression, which  had  their  analogies  in  the  Augustan 


The  New  Beauty  363 


buildings  at  Rimini  and  farther  away,  until  the  hour 
came  when  artists  had  themselves  become  classical. 1 
The  same  is  true  of  antique  figures.  With  the  most 
unerring  feeling,  artists  adopted  from  these  admired 
models  only  such  parts  as  they  understood,  i.e. 
what  they  themselves  possessed,  and  it  may  certainly 
be  said  that  the  world  of  antique  monuments,  which 
contained  the  productions  of  a  ripe  and  of  an  over- 
ripe art,  far  from  determining  the  progress  of  the 
modern  development  of  style,  did  not  even  conduce 
to  a  premature  harvest  of  results.  When  the  early 
Renaissance  took  an  antique  motive  in  hand,  it  never 
reproduced  it  without  the  most  sweeping  alterations. 
It  treats  the  antique  just  as  the  Baroque  or  Rococo 
periods,  so  marked  in  style,  would  have  done.  In 
the  sixteenth  century  art  reached  such  a  pinnacle  that 
for  a  short  time  it  was  on  a  level  with  the  antique. 
This  was  a  distinctly  individual  development,  and 
not  the  result  of  a  deliberate  study  of  the  remains  of 
antiquity.  The  broad  stream  of  Italian  art  flowed  on, 
and  if  there  had  been  no  antique  figures  the  Cinque- 
cento  must  have  become  what  it  actually  became. 
Beauty  of  line  came  not  from  the  Apollo  Belvedere, 
nor  classic  repose  from  the  Niobides.2 

It  takes  a  long  time  to  discern  the  antique  in  the 
Quattrocento,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  there. 
When  Botticelli  set  to  work  on  a  mythological  sub- 

1  Cf.  Repertorium  fur  Kunstwtssenschaft,  1893:  "Antique 
Triumphal  Arches,  a  study  in  the  development  of  Roman  Archi- 
tecture, and  its  relation  to  the  Renaissance.  M  (Wolfflin.) 

2  The  Florentine  Daughters  of  Niobe  were  indeed  unknown  at 
the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century. 


364      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ject,  he  wished  to  create  an  antique  impression. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  us,  in  his  Birth  of  Venus  or 
his  Calumny  of  Apelles  he  certainly  did  not  intend 
to  represent  his  subject  otherwise  than  as  an  antique 
painter  would  have  represented  it,  and  his  picture  of 
Spring,  with  the  Goddess  of  Love  in  her  scarlet  gold- 
brocaded  gown,  with  the  dancing  Graces  and  the 
Flora  scattering  flowers,  was  accounted  a  composition 
thoroughly  in  the  spirit  of  the  antique.  The  Venus 
on  the  Shell  bears  indeed  but  a  faint  likeness  to  her 
antique  sister,  and  the  group  of  Graces  is  far  from 
antique  in  feeling,  and  yet  no  intentional  wish  to 
diverge  from  classic  models  need  be  assumed.  Botti- 
celli, after  all,  did  only  what  his  contemporaries  and 
colleagues  did  in  architecture,  when  they  thought  that  . 
they  were  erecting  their  arcades  of  slender  columns 
and  lofty  spans  and  rich  decorations  in  imitation  of  the 
antique. 1 

If  a  Winckelmann  had  then  arisen  to  preach  the 
quiet  grandeur  and  the  noble  simplicity  of  antique 
art,  no  one  would  have  understood  such  ideas.  The 
early  Quattrocento  had  approached  this  ideal  far 
more  nearly,  but  the  earnest  attempts  of  a  Niccolo 
d'  Arezzo,  a  Nanni  di  Blanco,  or  even  of  a  Donatello 
were  not  renewed.  Men  now  looked  for  movement, 
and  valued  what  was  rich  and  decorative;  the  feeling 

1  We  have  the  antique  treatment  of  a  contemporary  scene  in 
Verrocchio's  relief  showing  the  death  of  a  Tornabuoni  (from  the 
tomb  in  the  Minerva  at  Rome,  now  in  the  Bargello).  Rome  al- 
ways approached  more  closely  to  the  antique  than  Florence,  and 
marble  seems  almost  to  impose  the  necessity  of  classical  con- 
ception. 


The  New  Beauty  365 


for  form  had  completely  changed,  yet  no  one  thought 
that  the  antique  had  been  abandoned.  Was  it  not  the 
antique  which  offered  the  chief  models  of  movement, 
and  of  fluttering  drapery,  and  did  not  the  ancient 
monuments  furnish  an  inexhaustible  store  of  decoration 
for  furniture,  clothing,  and  buildings?1  Ancient  build- 
ings were  thought  to  be  the  most  appropriate  back- 
ground, and  the  enthusiasm  for  these  monuments  was 
so  great  that  the  Arch  of  Constantine,  for  example,  was 
repeatedly  represented  on  frescoes  in  Rome,  where  the 
actual  edifice  was  always  before  men's  eyes,  and  some- 
times more  than  once  in  the  same  picture.  It  was 
not  indeed  represented  as  it  was,  but  as  it  ought  to 
have  been,  brightly  painted,  and  gorgeously  tricked 
out.  Wherever  antique  scenes  were  represented, 
there  was  an  attempt  to  give  the  impression  of  a 
fantastic,  almost  fabulous,  splendour.  At  the  same 
time  artists  looked  for  mirthful,  not  for  serious, 
subjects  in  the  antiques.  They  liked  to  see  nude 
forms  with  bright  scarves  lying  on  the  grass,  and  to 
call  them  Venus  and  Mars.  Nothing  was  statuesque 
or  marble-like,  for  men  still  loved  a  gay  variety  of 
colours,  luminous  flesh-tints,  and  flowery  meadows. 

There  was  as  yet  no  appreciation  of  the  antique 
gravitas.  Men  read  the  ancient  poets  with  altered 
emphasis.  The  pathos  of  Virgil  resounded  in  their 
ears  without  effect.  Their  perceptions  were  not  yet 
ripe  for  the  splendid  passages  which  have  impressed 
themselves  on  later  generations,  such  as  the  words  of 

1  Filippino,  according  to  Vasari,  was  the  first  to  employ 
antique  motives  wholesale  to  ornament  his  pictures. 


366       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  dying  Dido  uet  magna  mei  sub  terras  ibit  imago.  " 
We  may  say  this  when  looking  at  the  illustrations  of 
ancient  poems,  which  conceive  the  subject  on  lines 
so  utterly  opposed  to  all  that  we  could  expect.  We 
see  from  the  charming  description  in  Vespasiano 1  of  a 
humanist — Niccoli — dining  how  little  was  required  to 
produce  an  antique  impression.  The  table  was 
covered  with  the  whitest  cloth.  Costly  cups  and 
antique  vases  were  placed  on  it,  and  he  himself  drank 
from  a  crystal  goblet.  "A  verderlo  in  tavola, M  the 
narrator  exclaimed  enthusiastically,  "cosi  antico  come 
era,  era  una  gentilezza. "  The  little  picture  is  deli- 
cately archaic  in  conception,  and  accords  with  the 
Quattrocentist  ideas  of  the  antique,  but  how  un- 
imaginable such  a  conception  would  have  been  in  the 
sixteenth  century!  Who  would  have  called  it  "an- 
tique"? or  who  would  have  associated  dining  with 
antique  themes?  The  new  ideals  of  human  dignity 
and  human  beauty  brought  art  of  itself  into  new  re- 
lations with  classical  antiquity.  The  two  tastes  met, 
and  it  is  an  intelligible  consequence  that  now  for  the 
first  time  the  eye  learned  to  regard  archaeological 
accuracy  in  the  reproduction  of  antique  figures.  The 
fantastic  dresses  disappear;  Virgil  is  no  longer  the 
oriental  wizard,  but  the  Roman  poet,  and  the  gods  of 
mythology  resume  their  proper  forms. 

Men  began  to  see  the  antique  as  it  really  was. 
The  childish  conception  of  it  was  abandoned.  But 
from  this  moment  it  presented  a  danger,  and  the 

1  Quoted  by  J.  Burckhardt,  Kultur  der  Renaissance,  and  re- 
cently in  his  Beitrage  {Die  Sammler). 


The  New  Beauty  367 


contact  with  antiquity  necessarily  proved  fatal  to 
the  weak  after  they  had  once  tasted  of  the  tree  of 
knowledge. 

Raphael's  Parnassus,  as  compared  with  Botticelli's 
Spring,  is  an  instructive  example  of  the  new  concep- 
tion of  an  antique  scene,  and  in  the  School  of  Athens  we 
find  the  figure  of  an  Apollo  which  looks  like  a  genuine 
antique.  We  need  not  ask  whether  the  figure  was 
copied  from  an  antique  gem  or  not. 1  The  remarkable 
point  is  that  the  spectator  is  at  once  impelled  to  think 
of  an  antique.  For  the  first  time  we  have  imitations 
of  antique  statues  which  have  the  right  effect.  The 
modern  feeling  for  line  and  mass  had  been  so  developed 
that  the  distance  between  the  centuries  was  bridged 
over.  Not  merely  did  the  ideas  of  human  beauty 
coincide,  but  a  feeling  for  the  dignity  of  antique 
drapery  was  revived,  the  germs  of  which  had  existed  in 
the  earlier  Quattrocento.  Men  realised  the  dignity 
of  the  antique  style,  and  the  majesty  of  restrained 
gestures.  The  scenes  from  the  Mneid  in  Marc 
Antonio's  Quos  ego  engraving  form  an  instructive 
contrast  to  the  Quattrocentist  illustrations.  The  age 
had  developed  a  feeling  for  the  sculpturesque,  and  the 
tendency  to  place  the  plastic  motive  first  and  foremost, 
disposed  men  to  assimilate  ancient  art.  Nevertheless, 
all  the  great  masters  remained  original  in  their  con- 
ceptions, for  otherwise  they  would  not  have  been 
great.  The  adoption  of  some  isolated  motives,  and 
the  inspiration  given  by  some  ancient  model,  prove 

1  Von  Pulsky  (Beitrdge  zu  Raffaels  Studium  der  Antique,  1877) 
is  no  doubt  right  in  referring  it  to  the  Medicean  gem  of  Marsyas 
and  Apollo. 


368       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


nothing  to  the  contrary.  The  antique  may  be  called 
a  factor  in  the  development  of  the  art  of  Michelangelo 
or  Raphael,  but  it  is  only  a  secondary  factor.  There 
was  greater  danger  of  loss  of  originality  in  sculpture 
than  in  painting.  Sansovino,  at  the  very  commence- 
ment of  the  century,  had  begun  the  magnificent  tombs 
in  S.  Maria  del  Popolo  on  truly  antique  lines,  and, 
compared  with  earlier  works,  such  as  Pollaiuolo's 
tombs  in  St.  Peter's,  his  style  seems  to  herald  a 
neo-Roman  art.  Michelangelo,  however,  himself  suf- 
ficed to  prevent  art  from  entering  the  blind  alley  of 
an  obsolete  antique  classicism.  So  too,  where  Ra- 
phael is  concerned,  increasingly  large  scope  was  given 
to  the  antique,  but  the  highest  productions  of  his  art 
were  always  independent  of  its  influence. 

It  is  a  noteworthy  fact  that  architects  never  counte- 
nanced an  actual  reproduction  of  old  buildings.  The 
Roman  ruins  must  have  spoken  more  forcibly  than 
ever.  Their  simplicity  was  now  understood,  since 
the  unruly  desire  for  decoration  had  been  curbed. 
Men  appreciated  their  symmetry,  for  they  had  them- 
selves adopted  similar  proportions,  and  the  keener 
eye  now  desired  exact  measurements.  Excavations 
were  made,  and  Raphael  himself  was  half  an  archaeo- 
logist. One  stage  of  development  had  been  passed, 
and  different  periods1  in  the  antique  were  distin- 

1  Cf.  also  the  so-called  Report  of  Raphael  on  the  Roman  exca- 
vations (printed  infer  alia  in  Guhl,  Kiinstlerbriefe,  i.),  and  the 
surprising  criticism  of  Michelangelo  on  the  architectural  periods 
of  the  Pantheon,  in  which,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  he  forestalls 
the  most  modern  research.  (Vasari,  iv.,  512  in  the  Life  of 
A.  Sansovino.) 


The  New  Beauty  369 


guished,  yet  in  spite  of  this  clearer  insight  the  age 
did  not  lose  itself,  but  remained  "modern,"  and  the 
blossom  of  archaeological  study  produced  the  fruit 
of  the  Baroque  period. 


Venus. 

Copy  from  Marc  Antonio's  engraving. 


I 


III 

THE  NEW  PICTORIAL  FORM 

In  this  last  chapter  we  propose  to  discuss  the  new 
method  of  representing  objects.  We  mean  the  way 
in  which  the  given  object  is  arranged  as  a  picture  for 
the  eye,  in  which  sense  the  term  " pictorial  form" 
may  be  applied  to  the  whole  domain  of  the  visible 
arts.  It  is  obvious  that  the  new  feeling  for  the  human 
body  and  its  movements,  explained  above,  would  react 
upon  the  pictorial  form  of  the  same,  and  that  con- 
ceptions of  repose,  grandeur,  and  importance  in 
pictorial  reproductions  would  impose  themselves  in- 
dependently of  the  special  subject  of  representation. 
But  this  enumeration  does  not  exhaust  the  elements  of 
the  new  pictorial  forms ;  others  must  be  added  which 
cannot  be  deduced  from  the  previous  definitions,  and 
are  independent  of  feeling,  the  results  merely  of  a  more 
thorough  development  of  the  visual  faculty.  These 
are  the  actual  artistic  principles:  clear  definition  of 
the  visible  object,  a  simplified  presentment  on  the 
one  hand,  and  on  the  other  the  desire  for  increasingly 
suggestive  complexities  of  view.  The  eye  desires 
more,  as  its  power  of  receptivity  is  stronger,  but  at  the 
same  time  the  picture  gains  in  simplicity  and  clearness, 
in  so  far  as  the  objects  are  made  easier  to  the  sight. 
Then  there  is  a  third  element,  viz.  the  power  of  seeing 

370 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  371 


the  parts  collectively,  the  capacity  to  form  a  compre- 
hensive conception  of  the  various  parts,  which  is 
connected  with  the  desire  for  a  composition  in  which 
each  part  of  the  whole  is  felt  to  be  necessary  in  its 
place. 

This  theme  must  be  treated  either  at  great  length 
or  very  briefly,  i.  e.  in  short  sections.  An  inter- 
mediate course  would  probably  weary  the  reader 
without  instructing  him.  I  have  chosen  the  second 
alternative,  since  a  short  sketch  is  alone  suitable  to 
the  size  of  this  book.  If  the  chapter  therefore  appears 
unimportant,  the  author  may  be  allowed  to  remark 
that  it  has  not  been  written  hurriedly,  and  that  it  is 
easier  to  collect  running  quicksilver  than  to  grasp  the 
various  components  which  make  up  the  idea  of  a  rich 
and  mature  style.  The  novelty  of  my  attempt  may 
be  considered  as  a  partial  excuse,  if  this  portion  of  my 
book  in  particular  should  not  prove  easy  reading. 

I.— Repose,  Space,  Mass,  and  Size 

The  pictures  of  an  age  have  their  distinct  pulsation 
no  less  than  the  pictures  of  an  individual  master. 
Quite  apart  from  the  subject  of  the  representation, 
the  lines  may  run  restlessly  and  hastily,  or  calmly 
and  quietly,  the  space  may  be  cramped,  or  spacious 
and  convenient,  the  modelling  may  be  small  and  jerky, 
or  broad  and  coherent.  From  all  that  has  been  al- 
ready said  of  the  new  idea  of  the  Cinquecento  as  to 
the  beauty  of  the  body  and  its  movements,  a  calmer 
tendency  may  be  expected,  in  pictures  more  mass  and 
space.    New  relations  between  space  and  contents 


372      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


are  established,  the  pictures  become  more  impressive, 
and  both  in  outline  and  in  relief  the  same  spirit  of 
repose  and  the  same  reticence  are  felt,  which  are  the 
indispensable  characteristics  of  the  new  ideas  of  the 
beautiful. 

I 

The  contrast  is  obvious  when  a  youthful  work  of 
Michelangelo's,  the  Tondo  of  the  Madonna  with  the 
Book,  is  placed  by  the  side  of  a  similar  circular  relief 
by  Antonio  Rossellino,  whom  we  may  take  to  represent 
the  old  generation.  (Cf.  the  reproductions  on  page 
20  and  page  69.)  In  the  latter  we  see  a  sparkling 
variety,  in  the  former  a  broad  simplicity  of  treatment. 

It  is  not  merely  a  question  of  leaving  out  details,  of  a 
simplification  of  subject  matter  (as  to  which  something 
has  already  been  said)  but  of  the  treatment  of  sur- 
faces generally.  When  Rossellino  enlivens  his  back- 
ground with  the  quivering  lights  and  shadows  of  a 
rocky  landscape,  and  fills  the  expanse  of  sky  with 
crinkled  clouds,  it  is  only  a  continuation  of  the  style 
in  which  the  head  and  hands  are  modelled.  Michel- 
angelo sought  broad,  coherent  surfaces  in  the  human 
figure,  and  thus  the  question  of  how  to  treat  the  rest 
was  spontaneously  solved.  The  same  taste  prevails 
in  painting  as  in  sculpture.  Here  also  pleasure  is 
no  longer  felt  in  the  fantastic,  in  innumerable  petty 
inequalities  of  surface;  quiet,  massive  effects  of  light 
and  shade  have  become  the  desiderata.  The  sign 
that  governs  the  movement  is  legato. 

The  change  of  style  is  shown  perhaps  still  more 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  373 


clearly  in  the  treatment  of  line.  Quattrocentist 
drawing  is  somewhat  hasty.  There  are  many  petty 
flourishes  and  embellishments,  harsh  junctures  and 
violent  interruptions.  The  sixteenth  century  intro- 
duces a  calmer  flow  of  line,  bold  strokes,  and  rhythmic 
cadences.  A  new  sympathy  with  line  would  seem  to 
have  awakened  everywhere,  and  once  more  it  is  al- 
lowed to  develop  freely.  Perugino  began,  and  Raphael 
with  his  incomparable  delicacy  of  feeling  continued 
in  the  same  path.  But  even  the  others,  who  were 
very  different  in  temperament,  recognised  the  beauty 
of  the  broad  sweep  of  line,  and  avoided  the  petty, 
breathless  complexity  of  the  earlier  manner.  It  was 
still  possible  for  Botticelli  to  make  the  point  of  an 
elbow  press  against  the  edge  of  the  picture  (Pietd, 
Munich).  But  now  each  line  has  to  reckon  with  other 
lines;  they  make  mutual  concessions,  and  the  eye  has 
become  sensitive  to  the  glaring  intersections  of  the 
former  style. 

2 

The  universal  desire  for  breadth  necessarily  entailed 
a  new  relation  of  the  figures  to  the  space  in  painting. 
It  was  felt  that  there  was  a  want  of  space  in  the  old 
pictures.  The  figures  stood  sharply  on  the  front 
edge  of  the  stage,  and  thus  an  impression  of  narrow- 
ness was  produced,  which  was  not  dissipated  even 
by  the  extensive  colonnades  and  landscapes  in  the 
background.  Even  Leonardo's  Last  Supper  shows  a 
certain  Quattrocentist  awkwardness,  owing  to  the 
manner  in  which  the  table  is  brought  to  the  extreme 


374      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


front  of  the  scene.1  The  normal  relation  of  figures 
to  space  is  best  shown  in  the  portraits.  What  an  un- 
comfortable existence  must  have  been  passed  in  the 
small  room  in  which  Lorenzo  di  Credi  placed  his 
Verrocchio  (Uffizi),  compared  with  the  wide  breezy 
atmosphere  of  Cinquecentist  portraits!  The  new 
generation  required  air  and  space  to  move  in,  and  it 
obtained  this  primarily  by  increasing  the  length  of  the 
figure.  The  three-quarters  length  is  an  invention  of 
the  sixteenth  century.  But  even  where  little  of  the 
figure  was  shown,  painters  were  now  able  to  give  an 
impression  of  space.  How  much  at  his  ease  Cas- 
tiglione  seems  within  the  four  enclosing  lines  of  his 
frame ! 

Quattrocentist  frescoes  usually  produce  a  con- 
tracted and  cramped  effect.  Fra  Angelico's  frescoes 
in  the  Chapel  of  Nicholas  V  in  the  Vatican  have  a 
compressed  look,  and  in  the  chapel  of  the  Palazzo 
Medici,  where  Gozzoli  painted  the  Procession  of  the 
Kings,  the  spectator,  in  spite  of  all  the  splendour, 
cannot  shake  off  a  feeling  of  discomfort.  Something 
of  the  same  sort  must  be  said  even  of  Leonardo's 
Last  Supper;  we  expect  a  frame  or  a  border,  which 
the  picture  has  not  and  never  can  have  had. 

Raphael  shows  a  characteristic  development  in  the 
Stanze.  If  the  spectator  looks  at  one  picture  alone 
in  the  Camera  della  Segnatura  he  will  not  find  fault 
with  the  relation  between  the  picture  and  the  wall; 

1  Raphael  Morghen  disguised  the  fact  in  his  engraving  of  the 
Last  Supper,  and,  in  order  not  to  offend  modern  taste,  inserted  that 
interval  between  the  table  and  the  edge  of  the  picture  to  which 
we  have  become  accustomed  since  the  Cinquecento. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  375 


but  if  he  looks  at  two  pictures  together,  as  they  meet 
in  the  corners,  he  will  immediately  become  conscious 
of  the  antiquated'  dryness  of  the  conception  of  space. 
In  the  second  room  the  juncture  at  the  corners  is 
different,  and  the  pictures,  owing  to  the  space  avail- 
able, are  on  a  smaller  scale  altogether. 

3 

No  contradiction  is  involved,  if,  notwithstanding 
the  wish  for  space,  the  figures  within  the  frame  in- 
crease in  size. 1  They  are  intended  to  produce  a  more 
striking  effect  as  a  mass,  conformably  to  the  idea  which 
identified  solidity  with  beauty.  Superfluous  space 
was  avoided,  because  it  was  known  that  the  figures 
thus  lost  in  power,  and  means  were  available  to  create 
the  impression  of  breadth  in  the  drawing  in  spite  of 
any  imposed  limits. 

The  tendency  was  towards  compactness,  weight, 
and  solidity.  More  importance  was  attached  to  the 
horizontal  line.  Hence  the  outline  of  groups  was 
lowered  and  the  tall  pyramid  became  the  triangular 
group  with  a  broad  base.  The  composition  of  Ra- 
phael's Madonnas  furnishes  the  best  examples.  In  the 
same  way  we  may  instance  the  combination  of  two  or 
three  standing  figures  into  a  compact  group.  The 
older  pictures,  where  they  represent  groups,  seem 
thin  and  fragmentary,  and  generally  slight  and  light 
compared  with  the  massive  compactness  of  the  new 
style. 

1  The  plastic  figure  in  the  niche  underwent  the  same  change. 


376       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


4 

Finally  the  inevitable  consequence  was  a  general 
increase  in  actual  size.  The  figures  grow  as  it  were 
under  the  hands  of  the  artists.  It  is  notorious  that 
Raphael  continually  enlarged  the  scale  in  the  Stanze. 
Andrea  del  Sarto,  in  the  Court  of  the  Annunziata, 
surpassed  himself  in  his  picture  of  the  Birth  of  the  Vir- 
gin, and  was  immediately  surpassed  in  turn  by  Pontor- 
mo.  The  pleasure  afforded  by  the  grandiose  was  so 
great  that  even  the  newly  awakened  idea  of  unity 
raised  no  protest.  The  same  holds  good  of  easel- 
pictures.  The  change  may  be  noted  in  every  gallery, 
for  with  the  Cinquecento  large  canvases  and  large 
figures  appear  on  the  scenes.  We  shall  have  to  speak 
again  later  of  the  way  in  which  the  single  picture  is 
brought  into  harmony  with  the  architecture.  It  is  no 
longer  seen  by  itself,  but  together  with  the  wall  for 
which  it  is  intended,  and  this  point  of  view  once  ac- 
cepted, painting  would  have  been  destined  to  increase 
in  size,  even  if  it  had  not  advanced  spontaneously  in 
this  direction. 

The  characteristics  of  style  noted  here  are  of  an 
essentially  material  kind,  and  correspond  to  a  definite 
expression  of  feeling.  But  now,  as  we  have  already 
said,  elements  of  a  formal  nature  are  found,  which 
cannot  be  developed  from  the  spirit  of  the  new  genera- 
tion. The  calculation  cannot  be  made  with  mathemati- 
cal accuracy :  simplification  in  the  sense  of  obtaining 
repose  encounters  a  simplification,  which  aims  at 
the  greatest  possible  lucidity  in  the  picture,  and  the 
tendency  to  concentration  and  mass  encounters  a 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  377 


strongly  developed  will  to  give  pictures  an  increasing 
wealth  of  presentment,  that  will  which  created  com- 
pactly grouped  pictures  and  first  found  access  to  the 
dimension  of  depth.  On  one  side  there  is  the  in- 
tention to  facilitate  perception,  on  the  other  the 
determination  to  make  the  contents  of  the  picture  as 
full  as  possible. 

We  shall  now  classify  the  elements  affected  by  the 
conception  of  simplification  and  lucidity. 

II. — Simplification  and  Lucidity 

1 

Classical  art  goes  back  to  the  elementary  directions 
of  vertical  and  horizontal  lines,  and  to  the  primitive 
aspects  of  pure  full-face  or  profile.  This  admitted  of 
completely  new  effects,  for  the  simplest  of  these  had 
fallen  into  disuse  in  the  Quattrocento.  These  primi- 
tive directions  of  line  and  primitive  aspects  had  been 
assiduously  set  aside  with  the  intention  of  producing 
movement  at  any  cost.  Even  an  artist  so  simple- 
minded  as  Perugino  has,  for  example,  in  his  Pi  eta  in  the 
Pitti  Palace,  not  a  single  pure  profile,  and  nowhere  a 
pure  full-face.  Now,  when  artists  commanded  the 
widest  range  of  resources,  a  new  value  was  all  at  once 
attached  to  primitive  notions.  Not  indeed  that  there 
was  any  deliberate  archaism,  but  artists  recognised  the 
effect  to  be  won  by  a  combination  of  simplicity  and 
richness;  it  gives  an  average  and  the  whole  picture 
gains  in  balance.  Leonardo  appeared  as  an  innovator 
when  he  enframed  the  company  in  his  Last  Supper  by 


378      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


two  profiles  in  a  pure  vertical  line.  He  could  not  have 
learned  that  from  Ghirlandajo.1  Michelangelo  from 
the  very  first  upheld  the  value  of  simplicity,  and 
among  the  pictures  of  Raphael's  maturity  there  is 
hardly  one  in  which  the  deliberate  application  of  sim- 
plicity to  secure  a  powerful  and  emphatic  effect  is  not 
apparent.  Who  of  the  older  generation  would  have 
ventured  to  depict  the  Swiss  guards  in  the  Mass  of 
Bolsena  in  such  a  way,  three  vertical  lines  in  close 
juxtaposition!  Yet  this  very  simplicity  works  won- 
ders here.  Again,  in  his  most  sublime  essay,  the 
Sis  tine  Madonna,  he  uses  the  pure  vertical  line  with 
astounding  effect,  and  we  have  the  primitive  element 
combined  with  the  most  consummate  refinements  of 
art.  An  architectonic  scheme  like  those  of  Fra 
Bartolommeo  would  be  unimaginable  without  this 
reversion  to  elementary  methods  of  presentment. 

If  then  we  take  a  single  figure,  as,  for  example, 
Michelangelo's  recumbent  Adam  on  the  Sistine  ceiling, 
which  impresses  us  as  so  firm  and  secure,  we  shall  be 
forced  to  say  that  this  effect  would  not  have  been  pro- 
duced, if  the  torso  had  not  been  turned  so  as  to  present 
the  full  breadth  of  the  chest  to  the  spectator.  The 
figure  is  impressive  because  the  position,  which  to  the 
eye  is  normal,  was  achieved  under  difficult  conditions. 
The  figure  is  thus,  as  it  were,  secured.  It  has  a  cer- 
tain inevitability. 

Another  example  of  the  effect  of  such  a  tectonic 

1  The  portrait-heads  in  the  Tornabuoni  frescoes  can  hardly 
be  instanced  in  this  connection,  for  here  it  was  not  a  question  of 
formal  intentions  on  the  part  of  the  artist,  but  of  a  definite  social 
convention.    This  is  evident  from  his  other  compositions. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  379 


aspect — if  we  may  use  the  expression — is  the  sitting 
and  preaching  St.  John  by  Raphael  (Tribuna).  It 
would  have  been  easy  to  give  him  a  more  pleasing  (or 
more  pictorial)  attitude  but,  as  he  sits  there,  with  the 
full  breadth  of  his  breast  towards  us  and  his  head 
erect,  not  only  the  mouth  of  the  prophet  speaks,  but 
the  whole  form  cries  aloud  to  us  from  the  picture. 
This  effect  could  not  have  been  obtained  in  any  other 
fashion. 

In  their  methods  'of  illumination,  again,  Cinque- 
centists  adopted  simple  schemes.  We  find  heads, 
which  seen  en  face  are  accurately  divided  by  the  line 
of  the  nose,  i.  e.  one  half  is  dark,  the  other  light,  and 
this  method  of  distributing  the  light  is  compatible 
with  the  most  perfect  beauty.  Michelangelo's  Del- 
phica  and  Andrea  del  Sarto's  ideal  youthful  head  are 
drawn  in  this  way.  In  other  cases  there  was  often 
an  attempt  to  preserve  a  symmetrical  shading  of  the 
eyes  when  the  light  was  thrown  strongly  on  the  face, 
another  device  which  produces  a  very  clear  and  restful 
effect.  Examples  are  to  be  found  in  the  St.  John  of 
Bartolommeo's  Pieta,  and  in  Leonardo's  John  the 
Baptist  in  the  Louvre.  This  does  not  at  all  mean  that 
this  method  of  illumination  was  universal,  for  the  axis 
of  operation  was  not  always  so  simple.  But  simplicity 
was  understood,  and  its  special  value  was  realised. 

In  the  early  picture  by  Sebastiano  in  S.  Crisostomo 
at  Venice  three  female  saints  are  seen  standing  to- 
gether on  the  left.  I  must  instance  this  group  as  a 
peculiarly  striking  example  of  the  new  method  of 
distribution,  and  here  I  am  not  speaking  of  the  bodies 
but  only  of  the  heads.    The  combination  is  apparently 


380       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


a  very  natural  one.  One  profile,  a  three-quarters 
face  (this  the  most  prominent),  and  then  a  third  in- 
clined, less  inde- 
pendent and  less 
strongly  illu- 
minated: a  sin- 
gle inclination 
contrasting 
with  two  verti- 
cal lines .  I  f 
we  go  through 
the  stock  of 
Quattrocentist 
examples  in 
which  a  some- 
what similar  ar- 
rangement i  s 
found,  we  shall 
soon  be  con- 
vinced that  the 
simple  mo- 
tive was  by 
no  means  the 

obvious  one.  The  feeling  for  it  did  not  revive  until 
the  sixteenth  century,  and  in  the  year  15 10  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  Sebastiano,  Carpaccio  could 
still  paint  his  Presentation  in  the  Temple  (Academy, 
Venice),  in  which  three  female  heads  are  placed  to- 
gether, quite  in  the  old  style,  almost  equivalent  in 
value,  each  differing  slightly  in  inclination,  yet  with 
no  marked  variety  of  type,  without  definite  standard 
or  clear  contrast. 


Three  Female  Saints  (fragment),  by 
Sebastiano  cbl  Piombo. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


2 

The  return  to  the  elementary  methods  of  present- 
ment is  not  to  be  divorced  from  the  invention  of  the 
composition  of  contrast.  It  is  allowable  to  speak  of 
invention,  for  a  clear  discernment  of  the  truth  that  all 
values  are  relative,  and  that  all  size  or  direction  of 
lines  is  effective  only  in  reference  to  other  sizes  or 
directions  was  not  to  be  found  before  the  Classical 
Age.  Now  for  the  first  time  it  was  perceived  that  the 
vertical  is  necessary  because  it  gives  the  standard  by 
which  all  deviations  from  the  perpendicular  are  re- 
cognised, and  throughout  the  whole  realm  of  visible 
objects  up  to  the  expression  of  human  emotions  by 
action  the  truth  was  manifested  that  the  separate 
motive  can  exercise  its  full  effective  force  only  when 
combined  with  its  antithesis.  Objects  surrounded  by 
smaller  objects  seem  large,  whether  they  be  separate 
limbs  or  whole  figures;  that  which  stands  beside  the 
complex  gains  an  air  of  simplicity,  that  which  is  op- 
posed to  the  violently  agitated  looks  calm,  etc. 

The  principle  of  effect  by  contrast  was  of  the  highest 
importance  to  the  sixteenth  century.  All  classical 
compositions  are  based  on  it,  and  it  was  a  necessary 
consequence  that  each  motive  could  be  admitted  only 
once  in  one  picture.  The  effect  of  such  marvels  of  art 
as  the  Sistine  Madonna,  rests  on  the  completeness  and 
the  uniqueness  of  the  contrasts.  This  picture,  which 
might  be  supposed  to  be  more  free  than  any  other 
from  calculated  effects,  is  simply  filled  with  strong 
contrasts.  In  the  St.  Barbara,  for  example — to  take 
one  case  only — it  had  evidently  been  decided  that,  as 


382       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


a  parallel  figure  to  the  Sixtus,  who  is  looking  up,  she 
must  be  looking  down,  before  any  special  reason  had 
been  invented  for  a  downward  gaze.  It  is  a  character- 
istic of  Raphael's  pictures  that  the  spectator,  looking 
at  the  general  effect,  does  not  think  of  the  details,  while 
Andrea  del  Sarto,  who  is  somewhat  later,  obtrudes  his 
treatment  of  contrasts  on  us  from  the  very  first  mo- 
ment. The  reason  for  this  is  that,  with  him,  contrasts 
are  mere  formulae  without  any  special  significance. 

There  is  also  an  application  of  the  principle  in  the 
psychological  domain:  a  passion  must  not  be  repre- 
sented side  by  side  with  a  like  passion,  but  should 
be  contrasted  with  other  emotions. 

Fra  Bartolommeo's  Pieta  is  a  model  of  psychical 
economy.  Raphael  introduces  into  the  group  round 
his  St.  Cecilia,  where  all  the  characters  are  under  the 
influence  of  the  heavenly  music,  the  indifferent  Mag- 
dalen, knowing  that  the  intense  rapture  of  the  others 
will  be  more  fully  impressed  upon  the  spectator  by  this 
means.  The  Quattrocento  shows  numerous  examples 
of  unsympathetic  bystanders,  but  such  considerations 
were  unknown  to  it.  It  is  unnecessary  to  say  how 
completely  compositions  of  contrast  like  the  Heliodor us 
and  the  Transfiguration  soared  above  the  horizon  of 
the  older  art. 

3 

The  problem  of  contrasts  is  a  problem  of  the  in- 
creased intensity  of  pictorial  effect.  The  whole  sum 
of  the  efforts  which  were  directed  towards  the  simpli- 
fication and  elucidation  of  the  presentment,  had  the 
same  object  in  view.    The  processes  then  at  work  in 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


383 


architecture,  the  system  of  purification,  and  of  ex- 
clusion of  all  details  which  did  not  help  towards  the 
whole,  the  selection  of  a  few  grand  forms,  the  rein- 
forcement of  the  sculptures,  all  find  complete  parallels 
in  pictorial  art. 

Images  were  carefully  selected.  Great  leading 
lines  had  to  play  a  prominent  part.  The  old  way  of 
considering  details,  of  groping  after  isolated  effects, 
and  passing  from  one  part  of  the  picture  to  the  other, 
is  now  abandoned.  The  composition  must  be  effective 
as  a  whole  and  be  clear  even  when  viewed  from  a  dis- 
tance. Sixteenth-century  pictures  are  easily  seen. 
Perception  is  facilitated,  and  the  essentials  are  at  once 
detected.  There  is  a  distinct  scale  of  values,  and  the 
eye  is  led  into  definite  paths.  A  reference  to  the  com- 
position of  the  Heliodorus  will  supply  the  place  of 
examples.  We  can  hardly  imagine  how  many  equally 
important  and  prominent  details  would  have  been 
forced  on  the  spectator's  view  by  a  Quattrocentist 
painter  working  on  so  large  a  surface. 

The  style  of  the  whole  is  also  the  style  of  each  de- 
tail in  that  whole.  The  drapery  of  the  sixteenth 
century  is  distinguished  from  that  of  the  Quattrocento 
by  great  continuous  lines,  by  the  marked  contrast  be- 
tween plain  and  ornamented  parts,  and  by  the  visible 
outlines,  beneath  the  drapery,  of  the  body  which 
ever  remains  the  chief  motive. 

An  appreciable  part  of  the  Quattrocento  form- 
fantasy  is  found  in  its  system  of  folds.  Persons  with 
little  visual  sensibility  will  pass  by  these  fabrics  un- 
heeding, and  will  believe  generally  that  such  a  minor 
detail  was  more  or  less  spontaneous.    But  if  once  an 


384       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


attempt  be  made 
to  copy  some 
such  piece  of 
drapery,  i  t  will 
immediatel  y 
command  re- 
spect; these  dis- 
placements of  a 
lifeless  material 
will  be  felt  to 
bear  the  impress 
of  style — that  is, 
the  expression  of 
a  definite  pur- 
pose, and  atten- 
tion will  readily 
be  given  to  all 
the  rippling  and 
rustling  and  mur- 
muring of  the 
stuff.  Every  art- 
ist has  his  style. 
The  most  hasty 
is  Botticelli,  who 
with  characteris- 
tic impetuosity 
dashes  off  long 
simple  furrows, 

while  Filippino  and  Pollaiuolo  and  Ghirlandajo  linger 
lovingly  over  the  construction  of  their  nests  of  folds, 
so  rich  in  form. 1 

1  The  drapery  of  Ghirlandajo's  Madonna  in  the  Uffizi  (with 


Prudence,  by  Pollaiuolo. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


385 


The  fifteenth  century  poured  out  its  wealth  with 
profusion  over  the  whole  body.  If  there  are  no  folds, 
there  is  a  slash,  a  slit,  a  puff  or  the  pattern  of  the  stuff 
to  attract  attention.  It  is  thought  impossible  to  let 
the  eye  rest  idle  anywhere,  even  for  a  moment. 

We  have  already  explained  how  the  new  interests 
of  the  sixteenth  century  affected  drapery.  It  is 
sufficient  for  a  comprehension  of  the  new  style  to  have 
seen  the  female  figures  in  Leonardo's  picture  of  St. 
Anne,  Michelangelo's  Madonna  of  the  Tribuna  or 
Raphael's  Alba  Madonna.  The  essential  idea  here  is 
that  the  drapery  shall  not  overload  the  plastic  motive. 1 

The  folds  are  to  accentuate  the  body  and  not  to  in- 
trude themselves  on  the  eye  as  something  independent. 
Even  with  Andrea  del  Sarto,  who  delighted  to  let  his 
rustling  stuffs  gleam  in  picturesque  folds,  the  drapery 
is  never  independent  of  the  movement  of  the  figure, 
whereas  in  the  fifteenth  century  it  repeatedly  claims 
attention  as  a  special  motive. 

If  in  drapery  the  forms  could  be  arranged  accord- 
ing to  taste  (and  it  is  clearly  comprehensible  how  a 
new  taste  aimed  at  substituting  the  few  for  the  many, 
at  emphatic  and  strongly  accentuated  lines) ,  the  fixed 
forms,  such  as  head  and  body,  were  not  less  subject 
to  the  transforming  spirit  of  the  new  style. 

Fifteenth-century  heads  have  this  common  charac- 


two  archangels  and  two  kneeling  saints)  is  closely  akin  to  the 
famous  and  often  copied  study  of  drapery  by  Leonardo  in  the 
Louvre  (Miiller-Walde,  No.  18). 

Leonardo,   Trattato  delta  Pittura:     "Do  not  make  your 
figures  too  rich,  in  ornamentations,  lest  these  should  interfere 
with  the  form  and  position  of  the  figures. " 
25 


386       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


teristic,  that  the  glittering  eye  gives  the  chief  accent. 
Contrasted  with  the  light  shadows,  the  dark  pupil 
with  its  iris  has  such  importance,  that  it  is  necessarily 
the  first  thing  one  sees  in  the  head,  and  this  indeed  is 
perhaps  the  normal  effect  produced  in  nature.  The 
sixteenth  century  suppresses  this  effect;  it  dims  the 
lustre  of  the  glance.  The  bony,  sub-structure  is  now 
called  upon  to  speak  the  emphatic  word.  The  sha- 
dows are  deepened  in  order  to  give  more  energy  to  the 
form.  As  great  compact  masses,  not  small  scattered 
particles,  their  function  is  to  combine,  arrange,  and 
organise.  What  formerly  fell  apart  as  pure  detail 
is  now  made  to  cohere.  Simple  lines  and  emphatic 
directions  are  required.  The  trivial  disappears  in 
the  important.  No  details  may  be  prominent.  The 
principal  forms  must  be  conspicuous  enough  to  secure 
the  proper  effect  at  all  distances. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  convincingly  on  such  topics 
without  adducing  instances,  and  even  demonstration 
will  be  useless,  unless  personal  experience  coincides 
with  it.  Instead  of  going  into  particulars  we  will  let 
the  question  rest  on  a  comparison  of  the  two  portraits 
by  Perugino  and  Raphael,  reproduced  on  page  185  and 
as  frontispiece.  The  observer  will  be  able  to  convince 
himself  that  Perugino,  while  minutely  elaborating  his 
work,  uses  shadows  only  in  small  quantities  without 
emphasis,  and  that  he  employs  them  cautiously,  as 
if  they  were  a  necessary  evil.  Raphael,  on  the  con- 
trary, shades  boldly,  not  only  to  strengthen  the 
relief,  but  more  especially  as  a  means  of  welding  the 
presentment  together  in  a  few  large  forms.  By  these 
means  the  orbits  of  the  eyes  and  the  nose  are  included 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  387 


in  one  stroke,  and  the  eye  appears  clear  and  simple 
by  the  side  of  the  quiet  masses  of  shadow  which  sur- 
round it.  The  angle  between  nose  and  eyes  is  always 
emphasised  in  the  Cinquecento;  it  is  of  decisive  im- 
portance for  the  physiognomy,  a  centre  where  many 
threads  of  expression  meet. 

The  secret  of  the  great  style  is  to  say  much  in  few 
words. 

We  will  not  attempt  to  follow  the  new  ideas  to  the 
point  where  they  are  faced  by  the  problem  of  the  whole 
body,  nor  even  to  render  a  detailed  account  of  the 
simplified  method  of  representing  the  body  by  the 
selection  of  essentials.  It  is  not  the  growth  of  ana- 
tomical knowledge  which  decides  the  question  here, 
but  a  habit  of  seeing  the  figure  in  its  great  outlines. 
The  way  in  which  the  articulations  of  the  body  are 
understood,  and  the  essential  points  of  development 
noted,  presupposes  a  feeling  for  organic  structure 
which  is  independent  of  anatomical  erudition. 

The  same  development  plays  its  part  in  archi- 
tecture; we  need  take  but  one  example  of  it  here. 
The  fifteenth  century  allowed  the  profile  of  an  arched 
niche  to  be  continued  uniformly  all  round;  now  an 
abutment  is  required,  i.  e.,  the  important  point  where 
the  arch  springs  has  to  be  emphasised.  A  precisely 
similar  definition  of  the  articulations  of  the  body  was 
insisted  upon.  A  new  manner  of  setting  the  neck  on 
the  torso  appears.  The  parts  are  more  distinctly 
differentiated,  but  at  the  same  time  the  body  as  a 
whole  acquires  a  more  convincing  unity.  There  was 
an  effort  made  to  grasp  the  important  points  of  attach- 
ment; men  learned  to  understand  what  had  been  so 


388       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


long  shown  them  in  the  antique.  The  ultimate  result 
indeed  was  that  corporeal  structure  became  a  purely 
mechanical  exercise — for  which,  however,  the  great 
masters  are  not  to  be  held  responsible. 

The  question  at  issue  now  was  not  merely  the  repre- 
sentation of  man  in  repose,  but  still  more  that  of  his 
emotions,  his  physical  and  spiritual  functions.  An 
interminable  array  of  new  problems  arose  in  the 
domain  of  physical  movement  and  of  physiognomic 
expression.  Standing,  walking,  lifting,  carrying,  run- 
ning, and  flying — every  physical  action,  in  short,  had 
to  be  elaborated  in  accordance  with  the  new  require- 
ments, no  less  than  the  expression  of  the  emotions. 
It  seemed  everywhere  both  possible  and  necessary  to 
surpass  the  Quattrocento  in  clarity  and  in  force  of 
expression.  Signorelli  did  most  to  prepare  the  way 
for  representations  of  action  in  nude  bodies;  in- 
dependently of  the  laboriously  minute  study  of  details 
which  the  Florentines  made,  he  arrived  more  certainly 
at  a  comprehension  of  what  was  impressive  to  the  eye 
and  essential  to  the  conception.  But  with  all  his  art 
he  seems  merely  to  offer  hints  and  suggestions  as 
compared  with  Michelangelo.  It  was  Michelangelo 
who  first  discovered  those  aspects  of  the  functions  of 
the  muscles,  which  compel  the  spectator  to  realise  the 
incident.  The  effects  he  wins  from  his  material  are  as 
novel  as  if  no  artist  before  him  had  ever  worked  upon 
it.  The  series  of  Slaves  in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  now 
that  the  cartoon  of  the  Bathing  Soldiers  is  lost,  must 
be  termed  the  real  "School  of  the  World,"  the  uGra- 
dus  ad  Parnassum."  It  is  only  necessary  to  look  at 
the  drawing  of  the  arms,  to  get  an  idea  of  the  signi- 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


389 


ficance  of  the  work.  Whereas  the  Quattrocento 
sought  out  the  most  easily  attainable  ways  of  present- 
ment, for  example,  the  profile  view  of/the  elbow,  genera- 
tion after  generation  continuing  the  scheme,  one  man 
suddenly  broke  down  all  barriers,  and  exhibited  draw- 
ings of  the  joints  which  must  have  been  an  absolute 
revelation  to  the  spectator.  The  mighty  limbs  of 
these  Slaves,  no  longer  uniformly  shown  in  their  full 
breadth,  nor  with  a  dull  parallelism  of  contours,  make 
an  impression  of  life  surpassing  that  of  nature  itself. 
The  inward  and  outward  sweep  of  the  line,  the  ex- 
pansion and  contraction  of  the  form,  bring  about  this 
effect.  We  shall  have  to  speak  of  foreshortening 
further  on.  Michelangelo  is  for  all  time  the  great 
teacher,  who  showed  what  the  effective  points  of  view 
are.  To  take  a  simple  example  in  illustration,  let  us 
turn  back  to  the  figures  of  women  carrying  burdens,  by 
Ghirlandajo  and  Raphael  (See  the  reproductions  on  p. 
340  and  p.  341).  When  we  note  the  superiority  of  the 
lowered  left  arm  holding  a  flagon  in  Raphael's  picture 
to  that  in  Ghirlandajo's,  we  shall  have  a  standpoint 
from  which  to  estimate  the  difference  of  draughtsman- 
ship in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries. 1 

As  soon  as  the  pictorial  importance  of  the  joints 
became  evident,  it  was  natural  that  artists  should  have 
desired  to  make  them  all  visible,  and  hence  arose  that 
tendency  to  bare  the  arms  and  legs,  which  was  not 
held  in  check  even  in  the  rendering  of  saintly  figures. 
The  sleeves  of  male  saints  were  often  thrown  back, 

1  It  is  immaterial  in  this  connection  that  we  have  reproduced 
Raphael's  figure,  not  from  an  original  drawing,  but  from  an  old 
copy  of  the  fresco. 


39°       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


for  the  elbow-joint  had  to  be  seen.  Michelangelo 
went  farther,  and  bared  the  arm  of  his  Virgin  up  to 
the  shoulder- joint  {Madonna  of  the  Tribuna).  Al- 
though other  painters  do  not  follow  him  in  this,  yet 
the  exposure  of  the  junction  of  arm  and  shoulder  is 
common  in  the  case  of  angels.  Beauty  came  to  be 
identified  with  a  clear  definition  of  the  joints.  As 


Reclining  Venus  (fragment)  by  Piero  di  Cosimo. 


a  prominent  instance  of  the  defective  knowledge  of 
organic  structure  which  was  peculiar  to  the  fifteenth 
century,  we  may  cite  the  treatment  of  the  loin-cloth 
in  the  figure  of  Christ  or  St.  Sebastian.  This  piece 
of  drapery  is  intolerable  when  it  conceals  the  lines  of 
transition  between  the  torso  and  the  extremities. 
Botticelli  and  Verrocchio  do  not  seem  to  have  felt  any 
reluctance  to  mutilate  the  body  in  this  way,  but  in  the 
sixteenth  century  the  loin-cloth  is  arranged  in  a 
manner  which  clearly  expresses  a  comprehension  of 
the  structural  idea  and  a  wish  to  preserve  the  purity 


392       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


of  presentment.  It  is  not  surprising  that  Perugino, 
with  his  architectonic  cast  of  thought,  should  have 
so  soon  arrived  at  a  similar  solution. 

In  order  to  end  this  discussion  with  a  more  weighty 
example,  let  us  place  side  by  side  the  Venus  in  Piero 
di  Cosimo's  Venus  and  Mars,  in  Berlin,  and  Titian's 
recumbent  Venus  in  the  Uffizi,  where  Titian  must  be 
the  representative  of  the  Cinquecento  for  Central 
Italy  also,  since  no  figure  equally  good  for  purposes 
of  comparison  can  be  found.  We  have  then  in  both 
pictures  a  nude  recumbent  female  figure.  The  reader 
will  at  first  naturally  wish  to  explain  the  difference  of 
effect  by  the  difference  of  the  model.  But  if  he  further 
says  that  the  articulated  beauty  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  as  we  showed  it  above  (p.  345)  in  Francia- 
bigio's  study,  is  being  compared  with  the  inarticulated 
product  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and  that  a  form  after 
the  style  of  the  Cinquecento,  where  the  firm  outline  is 
emphasised  in  contrast  to  the  swelling  fleshy  parts, 
must  necessarily  be  superior  in  clarity,  we  shall  still 
feel  that  there  are  other  vast  differences  in  the  manner 
of  representing  the  figure.  In  the  one  case  it  is  ren- 
dered in  a  fragmentary  and  faulty  fashion,  in  the  other 
with  the  most  consummate  perspicuity.  Even  nov- 
ices in  the  study  of  Italian  art  will  be  puzzled  when 
they  examine  Piero's  drawing  of  the  right  leg,  a  uni- 
form line  parallel  to  the  frame  of  the  picture.  It  is 
quite  possible  that  the  model  presented  this  view, 
but  why  did  the  painter  allow  himself  to  be  satisfied 
with  it?  Why  does  he  show  nothing  of  the  confor- 
mation of  the  limb.  He  had  no  desire  to  do  so.  The 
leg  is  stretched  out;  it  would  not  look  different  were 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


393 


.it  absolutely  stiff;  it  is  loaded  and  compressed  from 
above,  but  it  looks  as  if  it  were  withered.  It  is  against 
such  distortions  of  physical  development  that  the  new 
style  enters  its  protest.  We  must  not  say  that  Piero 
is  merely  an  inferior  draughtsman  to  Titian.  The 
question  is  one  of  generic  difference  of  style,  and  he 
who  investigates  the  problem  will  be  surprised  at  the 
extent  of  the  analogies  to  be  discovered  in  connection 
therewith.  Duress  earlier  drawings  might  supply 
parallels  to  Piero's  figures. 

The  body,  bulging  in  the  invariable  Quattrocento 
style,  leans  over  to  one  side.  The  attitude  is  far  from 
pleasing,  but  we  would  allow  the  realist  to  gratify 
himself  in  this  respect,  if  only  he  had  not  cut  off  the 
connection  between  the  legs  and  the  body.  There  is  a 
complete  absence  of  the  continuity  of  outline  which  is 
required  by  the  representation. 

In  the  same  way  the  left  arm  suddenly  disappears  at 
the  shoulder,  without  any  hint  as  to  its  form,  until  we 
discover  a  hand  which  must  belong  to  it,  though  it  has 
no  visible  connection  with  it.  If  we  ask  for  any  ex- 
planation of  the  functions,  how  the  weight  of  the 
body  on  the  right  arm  is  suggested,  the  turn  of  the 
head,  or  the  movement  of  the  wrist,  Piero  tells  us 
nothing.  Titian  not  only  exhibits  the  formation  of 
the  body  with  absolute  clearness,  leaving  us  in  no  un- 
certainty on  any  single  point,  but  the  action  of  each 
part  is  carefully  yet  adequately  represented.  We  need 
not  dwell  on  the  harmony  of  line,  how  on  the  right  side 
especially  the  contour  flows  downwards  in  an  even 
rhythmic  cadence.  It  may  however  be  said  generally 
that  even  Titian  did  not  compose  so  admirably  from 


394       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


the  first.  The  simpler  and  earlier  Venus  with  the  dog 
in  the  Tribuna,  may  have  the  advantage  of  greater 
freshness,  but  it  is  not  so  mature  a  production. 

What  is  true  of  the  individual  figure  applies  in  a 
still  higher  degree  to  a  combination  of  several  figures. 
The  Quattrocento  made  incredible  demands  on  the 
eye.  The  spectator  not  only  has  the  greatest  difficulty 
in  picking  out  individual  faces  from  the  closely 
massed  rows  of  heads,  but  is  given  fragmentary 
figures  to  look  at,  of  which  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
imagine  the  complete  forms.  There  seemed  no  limit 
to  what  might  be  done  in  the  way  of  audacious  in- 
tersectiqns  and  concealments.  I  may  instance  the 
intolerable  segments  of  figures  in  Ghirlandajo's 
Visitation  (Louvre)  or  Botticelli's  Adoration  of  the 
Kings  in  the  Uffizi,  where  the  reader  is  invited  to 
analyse  the  right  half  of  the  picture.  Signorelli's 
frescoes  at  Orvieto,  with  their  absolutely  inextricable 
confusion  of  figures,  might  be  recommended  to  ad- 
vanced students.  On  the  other  hand,  how  profound 
is  the  sense  of  satisfaction  with  which  the  eye  dwells  on 
those  compositions  of  Raphael's  which  are  richest  in 
figures;  I  speak  of  his  Roman  works,  for  he  is  still 
indistinct  in  his  Entombment. 

The  same  impropriety  is  found  in  the  use  of  archi- 
tectural details.  The  portico  in  Ghirlandajo's  fresco 
of  the  Sacrifice  of  Joachim  is  so  designed  that  the 
pilasters  with  their  capitals  abut  on  the  upper  margin 
of  the  picture.  Every  one  at  the  present  time  would 
say  that  he  ought  either  to  have  included  the  en- 
tablature or  to  have  cut  off  the  pilasters  lower  down. 
But  it  was  the  Cinquecentists  who  made  this  criticism 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  395 


inevitable.  Perugino  was  superior  to  the  others  in 
this  point  also,  yet  archaisms  of  the  kind  are  still 
found  with  him,  as  when  he  imagines  that  he  can 
indicate  the  span  of  an  arch  by  means  of  the  small 
ends  of  a  cornice  projecting  from  the  edge  of  the 
picture.  The  proportions  of  rooms  in  old  Filippo 
Lippi's  works  are  positively  ludicrous.  They  are 
taken  into  account  in  the  judgment  passed  on  him  in 
the  first  chapter  of  this  book. 

III. — Enrichment 

1 

Among  the  achievements  of  the  sixteenth  century 
the  first  place  must  be  awarded  to  the  complete 
emancipation  of  physical  movement.  It  is  this 
quality  which  primarily  determines  the  impression 
of  richness  in  a  Cinquecentist  picture.  The  activity 
of  body  seems  to  be  due  to  more  lively  organs,  and 
the  eye  of  the  spectator  is  incited  to  increased  activity. 

Movement  does  not  now  mean  simple  progression. 
The  Quattrocento  shows  many  examples  of  running 
and  springing,  and  yet  a  certain  poverty  and  empti- 
ness is  inseparable  from  it  all,  inasmuch,  as  a  very 
limited  use  is  made  of  the  joints,  and  the  possibilities 
of  turnings  and  bendings  in  the  greater  and  lesser 
articulation  of  the  body  were  only  partially  exhausted. 
At  this  point  the  sixteenth  century  steps  in  with  such 
a  development  of  the  body,  such  an  enriched  pre- 
sentment even  of  the  figure  at  rest  that  we  recognise 
the  inauguration  of  a  new  era.    The  figure  at  once 


396      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


becomes  rich  in  directions,  and  what  was  previously 
regarded  as  a  flat  surface  acquires  depth,  and  be- 
comes a  complex  form  in  which  the  third  dimension 
plays  its  part. 

It  is  a  prevalent  mistake  among  amateurs  in  art  that 
everything  is  possible  at  all  times,  and  that  art,  as 
soon  as  it  has  acquired  some  facility  in  expression, 
will  at  once  be  able  to  represent  any  movement.  In 
reality  art  develops  like  a  plant,  which  slowly  puts 
forth  leaf  upon  leaf,  until  at  last  it  stands  round  and 
full  and  branching  out  on  every  side.  This  tranquil 
and  regular  growth  is  peculiar  to  all  organic  systems 
of  art,  but  it  can  nowhere  be  observed  so  perfectly  as 
in  the  antique  and  in  Italian  art. 

I  repeat  that  we  are  not  concerned  here  with  move- 
ments which  aim  at  some  new  purpose,  or  serve  some 
new  form  of  expression.  We  are  merely  discussing 
the  more  or  less  elaborate  picture  of  a  seated,  standing, 
or  leaning  figure,  where  there  is  one  main  action,  but 
where  by  contrasts  in  the  turn  of  the  upper  and  the 
lower  part  of  the  body,  or  of  the  head  and  the  breast, 
by  the  raising  of  one  foot,  the  extension  of  an  arm, 
the  thrusting  forward  of  a  shoulder,  and  such-like 
gestures,  very  varied  contours  of  torso  and  limbs  may 
be  obtained.  No  sooner  did  these  become  general 
than  certain  rules  for  the  application  of  motives  of 
movement  were  formulated,  and  the  system  of  diago- 
nal correspondence,  in  which,  for  example,  the  bend 
of  the  left  arm  corresponds  to  that  of  the  right  leg, 
and  vice  versa,  is  called  11  contraposition. "  But  the 
term  " contraposition' 9  cannot  be  applied  to  the  entire 
phenomenon. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


It  might  now 
be  thought  de- 
sirable to  draw 
up  a  scheme  of 
the  differentia- 
tion of  the  corre- 
lative parts,  the 
arms  and  legs, 
shoulders  and 
hips,  and  of  the 
newly  discovered 
possibilities  cf 
movement  in  the 
three  dimensions. 
But  the  reader 
must  not  expect 
this  here,  and,  as 
so  much  has  al- 
ready been  said 
about  plastic 
richness,  he  must 
be  satisfied  with 
a  few  selected 
examples. 

The  methods 
of  the  new  style 
will  be  most 
clearly  shown  in 
the  cases  where 
the  artist  has  to 
deal  with  the  per- 
fectly motionless 

397 


Perseus  (cast),  by  Benvenuto  Cellini. 


398      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Giovannino,  in  the  Berlin  Museum. 


form,  as  in 
the  theme  of 
the  Crucified 
Christ,  a  figure 
which,  owing  to 
the  fixity  of  the 
extremities , 
does  not  seem 
susceptible  of 
variation.  Yet 
the  art  of  the 
Cinquecent  o 
gave  novelty 
even  to  this  bar- 
ren motive,  by 
doing  away  with 
the  symmetrical 
disposition  of 
the  legs,  and 
placing  one 
knee  over  the 
other,  while  by 
a  general  turn 
of  the  figure  it 
produced  a  con- 
trast of  direc- 
tion between 
the  upper  and 
lower  parts  of 
the  body.  This 
treatment  has 
been  already 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  399 


discussed  in  the  case  of  Albertinelli  (cf.  p.  228). 
Michelangelo  worked  out  this  motive  to  its  logical 
conclusion.  And  it  may  be  remarked  incident  ally- 
that  he  added  the  element  of  emotion.  He  created  the 
figure  of  the  Crucified  Lord  who  is  casting  His  eyes 
upwards,  and  whose  mouth  is  opened  to  utter  the 
cry  of  anguish.1 

The  motive  of  the  bound  figure  presents  richer 
possibilities.  St.  Sebastian  fastened  to  the  stake,  or 
the  Christ  of  the  Flagellation,  or  even  that  series  of 
Slaves  fettered  to  pillars  which  Michelangelo  proposed 
for  the  tomb  of  Julius.  The  influence  of  these  very 
"  Captives  "  on  religious  subjects  can  be  clearly  traced, 
and  if  Michelangelo  had  completed  the  full  series  for 
the  tomb,  little  more  would  have  been  left  to  discover. 

When  we  approach  the  subject  of  the  unsupported 
standing  figure,  vast  prospects  naturally  open  out  be- 
fore us.  We  will  only  ask  what  the  sixteenth  century 
would  have  done  with  Donatello's  bronze  David?  It  has 
such  affinity  to  the  classical  style  in  the  line  of  move- 
ment, and  the  differentiation  of  the  limbs  is  so  effective 
that,  apart  from  the  treatment  of  form,  it  might  well 
have  been  expected  to  satisfy  even  this  later  genera- 
tion. The  answer  is  given  by  the  Perseus  of  Benve- 
nuto  Cellini,  a  late  figure  (1550)  but  relatively  simple 
in  composition,  and  therefore  suitable  for  purposes  of 
comparison.    Here  we  see  what  was  lacking  in  the 

1  Vasari  (vii.,  275)  gives  another  interpretation:  "Alzato  la 
testa  raccomanda  lo  spirito  al  padre. "  The  composition  is  pre- 
served only  in  copies.  (Reproduction  in  Springer  s  Raffae%und 
Michelangelo.)  This  is  the  origin  of  the  Seicentist  Crucified 
Christ. 


400       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


St.  Cosmo,  by  Montorsoli. 


David.  Not  only 
are  the  contrasts 
of  the  limbs  ac- 
centuated, but  the 
figure  is  no  longer 
in  one  plane,  it  ex- 
tends backwards 
and  forwards.  This 
change  may  be 
looked  upon  as  an 
ominous  one,  por- 
tending the  coming 
decay  of  plastic 
art,  but  I  use  the 
example  because 
it  is  characteristic 
of  the  tendency. 

Michelangelo  is 
certainly  richer, 
yet  his  composi- 
tion is  compact 
and  solid.  His  en- 
deavours to  give 
his  figures  more 
depth  have  been 
sufficiently  ex- 
plained by  the 
comparison  of  his 
Apollo  with  the 
panel-like  David. 
The  turn  of  the 
statue,    from  the 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  401 


feet  upwards  gives  life  to  the  figure  in  all  dimensions, 
and  the  outstretched  arm  is  valuable  not  merely  as  a 
contrasting  horizontal  line,  but  possesses  a  space- 
value,  since  it  marks  a  degree  on  the  scale  of  the 
line  of  depth,  and  thus  establishes  a  relation  be- 
tween back  and  front.  The  Christ  of  the  Minerva 
is  similiarly  conceived,  and  the  Giovannino  of  Berlin 
{vide  above,  note  on  p.  75)  comes  into  the  same 
category,  only  Michelangelo  would  not  have  approved 
the  breaking  up  of  the  mass  here.  Any  one  who  an- 
alyses the  movement  in  this  figure  may  profitably 
refer  to  Michelangelo's  Bacchus.  The  primitive  flat- 
ness and  simplicity  of  the  genuine  youthful  work  of 
the  artist  will  be  seen  to  contrast  clearly  with  the 
complicated  movement  in  the  late  work  of  an  imi- 
tator, and  the  difference,  not  of  two  individuals  but 
of  two  generations,  will  be  brought  home  to  the  un- 
prejudiced mind. 1 

The  St.  Cosmo  from  the  Medicean  sepulchral 
chapel  may  be  quoted  as  an  instance  of  a  Cinque- 
centist  seated  figure.  It  was  modelled  by  Michel- 
angelo and  executed  by  Montorsoli,  and  is  a  beautiful 
quiet  figure,  a  kind  of  tranquillised  Moses.  There  is 
nothing  striking  in  the  motive,  and  yet  it  formulates 
a  problem  which  was  inaccessible  to  the  fifteenth 
century.  Let  us  by  way  of  comparison  review  the 
Quattrocentist  seated  figures  in  the  Cathedral.  Not 
one  of  these  earlier  masters  has  even  attempted  to 

1  The  elaborate  motive  of  raising  a  cup  to  the  mouth — a 
simpler  rendering  would  have  given  the  act  of  drinking — occurs 
contemporaneously  in  painting.    Cf.   Bugiardini's  Giovanni?! o 
in  the  Pinacothek  of  Bologna. 
16 


402  .     Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


St.  John  the  Baptist,  by  J.  Sansovino. 


differentiate  the 
lower  extremities 
by  the  elevation 
of  one  foot,  to  say 
nothing  of  the 
bending  forward 
of  the  upper  part 
of  the  body.  The 
head  here  once 
more  shows  a  new 
direction,  and  the 
arms,  notwith- 
standing  the 
tranquillity  and 
unpretentious- 
ness  of  the  ges- 
ture,  form  a 
most  effective 
contrast  in  the 
composition. 

Sitting  figures 
have  the  advan- 
tage that  the 
form  is  compact 
as  a  mass,  and 
therefore  the  dif- 
ferences in  axis 
are  vigorously 
contrasted.  It  is 
easier  to  make  a 
sitting  figure  in- 
teresting than  a 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  403 


standing  figure,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that  they 
are  constantly  recurring  in  the  sixteenth  century. 
The  type  of  the  seated  youthful  St.  John  almost 
completely  ousted  that  of  the  standing  figure  both 
in  sculpture  and  painting.  The  late  figure  by  J. 
Sansovino  from  the  Frari  in  Venice  (1556)  is  very 
exaggerated,  but  for  that  reason  instructive,  as  it 
betrays  the  pains  taken  to  secure  an  interesting 
presentment. 

The  greatest  possibilities  of  concentrated  richness 
are  presented  by  recumbent  figures,  in  connection 
with  which  a  mere  mention  of  the  Day  and  Night  in 
the  Medici  Chapel  must  suffice.  Even  Titian  could 
not  resist  their  influence.  After  he  had  been  in 
Florence,  the  full-length  prostrate  figure  of  the  beau- 
tiful nude  female,  as  it  had  been  painted  in  Venice 
since  Giorgione's  times,  seemed  far  too  simple  to  him. 
He  sought  for  stronger  contrasts  of  direction  in  the 
limbs,  and  painted  his  Danae,  who,  with  half-uplifted 
body  and  the  one  knee  raised,  receives  the  golden 
rain  in  her  lap.  It  is  also  especially  instructive  to 
notice  how  in  the  sequel — for  this  picture  was  thrice 
repeated  in  his  atelier — the  figure  becomes  more  and 
more  crouching  and  how  the  contrasts  (even  in  the 
accompanying  figure),  are  emphasised. 1 

We  have  hitherto  spoken  more  of  plastic  than  of 
pictorial  examples.    Not  that  painting  had  taken 

1  The  order  of  the  pictures  can  be  exactly  determined.  The 
picture  at  Naples  (1545)  begins  the  series,  as  is  well  known,  then 
come  the  Madrid  and  Petersburg  pictures  with  considerable 
variations,  and  the  Danae  at  Vienna  contains  the  last  and  most 
complete  revision. 


404      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


a  different  course,  for  the  two  developments  were 
absolutely  parallel,  but  the  problems  of  perspective 
at  once  obtrude  themselves  in  sculpture,  since  here 


Madonna  with  Eight  Saints,  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 


the  same  movement  may  have  a  richer  or  a  poorer 
effect  according  to  the  point  of  view,  and  for  a  while 
we  only  had  to  deal  with  the  increase  of  objective 
movement.  But  so  soon  as  we  wish  to  show  this 
objective  enrichment  in  a  group  of  several  figures, 
painting  can  no  longer  be  left  in  the  background. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  405 


Sculpture,  it  is  true,  forms  its  groups  too,  but  it  soon 
reaches  its  natural  limits,  and  has  to  leave  the  field 


Madonna  with  Angels  and  Six  Saints,  by  Botticelli 


to  painting.  The  tangle  of  movement  which  Michel- 
angelo shows  us  in  the  "tondo"  of  the  Madonna  of 
the  Tribuna  lias  no  plastic  analogies  even  in  his  works, 
and  Sansovino's  vSt.  Anne  in  S.  Agostino's  at  Rome 
(1512)  appears  very  meagre  by  the  side  of  Leonardo's 
composition. 


406       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


It  is  surprising  that,  in  spite  of  all  the  vivacity  cf 
the  later  Quattrocento,  a  crowd  of  persons,  even 
with  the  most  excitable  painters — I  have  Filippino 
in  my  mind  —  never  presents  a  rich  appearance. 
There  is  much  unrest  on  a  small  scale,  but  little 
movement  on  a  large  scale.  There  is  a  want  of 
marked  divergences  of  direction.  Filippino  can  place 
five  heads  in  close  juxtaposition,  all  having  prac- 
tically the  same  inclination,  and  this,  not  in  a 
procession  but  in  a  group  of  women,  the  eye-wit- 
nesses of  a  miraculous  resuscitation  {Resuscitation 
of  Drusiana,  S.  Maria  Novella).  What  a  variety  of 
axes  was  displayed,  on  the  other  hand,  in  the  group 
of  women  in  Raphael's  Heliodorus — to  mention  but 
one  example! 

When  Andrea  del  Sarto  brings  his  two  fair  Floren- 
tines to  visit  the  lying-in-room  (Annunziata)  he  gives 
at  once  two  totally  distinct  contrasts  of  direction,  and 
the  result  is  that  with  two  figures  he  produces  an  im- 
pression of  greater  fulness  than  Ghirlandajo  with  a 
whole  company. 

Sarto  again,  depicting  saints  grouped  tranquilly 
together  in  a  votive  picture  in  which  all  the  figures  are 
standing  (Madonna  delle  Arpie),  achieves  a  richness  of 
effect  which  a  painter  like  Botticelli  does  not  possess, 
even  where  he  alternates  the  positions,  and  inserts  a 
central  seated  figure,  as  in  the  Berlin  Madonna  with 
the  two  Johns.  (See  pp.  256  and  412.)  It  is  not  the 
greater  or  less  amount  of  individual  movement  that 
determines  the  difference;  Sarto  wins  his  advantage 
from  the  one  great  motive  of  contrast,  which  consists 
in  placing  the  side  figures  in  sharp  profile  against  the 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


407 


central  full-face  figure. 1  But  how  greatly  the  richness 
of  movement  in  the  picture  is  increased  when  standing, 
kneeling,  and  sitting  figures  are  combined,  and  the 
distinctions  of  forward  or  backward,  above  and  below, 
are  introduced,  as  in  Sarto's  Madonna  of  1524  (Pitti) 
or  the  Madonna  of  1528  at  Berlin,  pictures  which 
have  their  Quattrocentist  counterpart  in  that  great 
composition  of  the  Six  Saints  by  Botticelli,  where  the 
six  vertical  figures  stand  together  almost  completely 
uniform  and  similar.2 

If,  finally,  we  think  of  the  varied  compositions  in 
the  Camera  della  Segnatura,  all  points  of  contact  with 
the  Quattrocento  cease  in  the  presence  of  this  con- 
trapuntal art.  We  recognise  that  the  eye,  which  had 
obtained  a  new  power  of  perception,  must  have  re- 
quired ever  richer  complexities  of  aspect  before  finding 
a  picture  attractive. 

2 

If  the  sixteenth  century  brings  with  it  a  new  wealth 
of  directions,  that  change  is  connected  with  a  general 
enlargement  of  space.  The  Quattrocento  remained 
under  the  spell  of  the  flat  surface,  it  places  its  figures 

1  We  may  quote  Leonardo,  Trattato  della  Pittura:  "I  repeat 
that  direct  contrasts  should  be  placed  near  each  other  and  com- 
mingled, for  one  intensifies  the  effect  of  another,  and  the  more 
so  the  nearer  they  are, "  etc. 

2  Our  reproduction  shows  the  well-known  picture  with  the 
omission  of  the  upper  fifth  of  it,  which  is  an  obvious  addition  of  a 
later  date.  The  figures  thus  have  their  original  effect,  for  a  hol- 
low empty  upper  space  is  quite  incompatible  with  the  Quattro- 
centist requirements  as  to  an  equal  filling  of  spaces. 


408       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


close  together  in  the  breadth  of  the  picture,  and  its 
composition  takes  the  form  of  stripes.  In  Ghirlan- 
dajo's  picture  of  the  lying-in-room  (see  illustration  on 
p.  337)  the  chief  figures  are  all  developed  on  one  plane: 
the  women  with  the  child,  the  visitors,  the  maid  with 
the  priest,  all  stand  on  one  line  parallel  with  the  mar- 
gin of  the  picture.  In  Andrea  del  Sarto's  composition, 
on  the  other  hand  (see  illustration  p.  235),  there  is 
nothing  more  of  the  sort.  We  have  a  series  of  curves, 
outward  and  inward  movement ;  there  is  the  impres- 
sion that  the  space  has  become  instinct  with  life.  Now 
such  antitheses,  as  compositions  on  flat  surfaces  and 
compositions  in  space,  must  be  understood  "cum 
grano  salis. n  Even  the  Quattrocentists  made  fre- 
quent attempts  to  secure  depth.  There  are  com- 
positions of  the  Adoration  of  the  Kings  in  which  every 
effort  is  made  to  remove  the  figures  from  the  foremost 
edge  of  the  stage  into  the  middle  distance  and  back- 
ground, but  the  spectator  generally  loses  the  clue 
which  was  intended  to  guide  him  into  the  depth  of  the 
picture — in  other  words,  the  picture  is  broken  up  into 
distinct  sections.  The  significance  of  Raphael's 
great  space  compositions  in  the  Stanze  is  best  shown 
by  Signorelli's  frescoes  at  Orvieto,  which  the  traveller 
usually  sees  just  before  his  entry  into  Rome.  Signo- 
relli,  whose  masses  of  figures  rise  before  us  like  a  wall, 
and  who  is  able  to  show,  so  to  say,  only  the  foreground 
on  his  vast  surfaces,  and  Raphael,  who  from  the  first 
easily  brings  his  wealth  of  figures  out  from  the  depth 
of  the  picture,  seem  to  me  to  sum  up  the  contrasts  of 
the  two  ages. 

We  may  go  still  further  and  say  that  all  conception 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


409 


of  form  in  the  fifteenth  century  is  superficial.  "Not 
merely  does  the  composition  fall  into  stripes,  even  the 
separate  figures  are  conceived  as  silhouettes.  These 
words  are  not  to  be  understood  in  their  literal  sense, 
but  there  is  a  difference  between  the  drawing  of  the 
early  Renaissance  and  the  High  Renaissance  which 
cannot  be  stated  in  any  other  way.  I  must  once  more 
adduce  the  example  of  Ghirlandajo's  Birth  of  St. 
John,  and  especially  the  figures  of  the  seated  women. 
Might  it  not  be  said  here  that  the  painter  has  flattened 
out  his  figures  upon  the  surface?  Contrast  with  this 
the  group  of  servants  in  Sarto's  Birth  of  the  Virgin. 
Here  the  painter  seeks  for  effect  by  bringing  forward  or 
thrusting  back  various  portions  of  the  composition; 
in  other  words,  the  efforts  of  the  draughtsman  are 
directed  to  effects  of  perspective,  not  to  a  superficial 
presentment.  As  another  example  take  Botticelli's 
Madonna  with  Two  Saints  (Berlin)  and  Andrea  del 
Sarto's  Madonna  delle  Arpie.  Why  is  the  St.  John 
the  Evangelist  so  much  richer  in  effect  in  the  latter? 
He  certainly  is  far  superior  in  movement,  but  the 
movement  is  so  represented  that  a  plastic  idea  is  at 
once  suggested  to  the  spectator,  who  is  impressed  by 
the  salience  and  resilience  of  the  form.  Apart  from 
light  and  shade,  the  impression  of  space  is  a  different 
one,  because  the  vertical  plane  is  interrupted,  and 
the  panel-like  figure  is  replaced  by  a  body  with  three 
dimensions,  in  which  the  axis  of  depth,  namely  the 
foreshortened  aspect,  is  expressed  on  an  extensive 
scale.  Foreshortening  had  been  employed  before 
this,  and  the  Quattrocentists  had  toiled  at  this  pro- 
blem from  the  first,  but  now  the  matter  was  so  thor- 


4io       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


oughly  settled  once  for  all  that  a  practically  new  con- 
ception may  be  said  to  have  been  formed.  In  the 
picture  of  Botticelli's  referred  to  (see  p.  412)  there  is 
once  more  a  St.  John,  pointing  with  his  finger,  the 
typical  gesture  of  the  Baptist.  The  way  in  which  the 
arm  is  laid  flat  on  the  surface,  parallel  to  the  spectator, 
is  characteristic  of  the  whole  fifteenth  century,  and  is 
found  as  often  in  the  preaching  as  in  the  pointing  St. 
John.  But  the  new  century  had  hardly  dawned  before 
attempts  were  being  made  on  every  side  to  get  rid  of 
this  superficial  style,  and,  within  the  limits  of  our 
illustrations  a  comparison  of  the  preaching  of  St. 
John  in  the  pictures  of  Ghirlandajo  and  Sarto  will 
sufficiently  demonstrate  the  fact.  Foreshortening 
was  reckoned  the  consummation  of  draughtsmanship 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  All  pictures  were  judged 
by  this  standard.  Albertinelli  was  at  last  so  wearied 
of  the  everlasting  talk  about  scorzo,  that  he  ex- 
changed his  easel  for  the  tavern-bar,  and  a  Venetian 
dilettante  like  Ludovico  Dolce  would  have  endorsed 
his  view :  "  Foreshortening  is  only  a  matter  for  connois- 
seurs, why  should  one  take  so  much  trouble  about  it  ?  " 1 

This  may  have  been  the  general  view  in  Venice,  and 
it  may  be  allowed  that  Venetian  painting  certainly  had 
means  enough  of  gratifying  the  eye,  and  may  have 
thought  it  superfluous  to  enquire  into  the  attractions 
of  Tuscan  masters.  But  in  the  Romano-Florentine 
school  the  great  masters  all  took  up  the  problem  of 
the  third  dimension. 

Particular  motives,  such  as  the  arms  pointing  out 
of  the  picture,  or  the  drooping  full-face  seen  in  per- 

1  Ludovico  Dolce,  VAretino. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


411 


spective,  appear  everywhere  almost  simultaneously, 
and  it  would  not  be  uninteresting  to  enumerate  in- 
stances. The  matter  does  not,  however,  depend  on 
individual  tours  de  force,  and  astounding  scorzi, 
the  important  point  is  the  universal  change  in  the 
projection  of  material  objects  on  the  flat  surface,  and 
the  education  of  the  eye  to  the  representation  of  the 
three  dimensions.  Andrea  del  Sarto.  consistently 
attempted  to  modify  the  effect  of  the  silhouette  which 
attached  the  figure  to  the  surface  by  perpetual  inter- 
sections. 

3 

It  is  obvious  that  light  and  shade  were  destined  to 
play  a  new  part  in  the  domain  of  this  new  art.  The 
tactile  effect,  it  would  naturally  be  supposed,  was  to  be 
more  directly  achieved  by  modelling  than  by  fore- 
shortening. As  a  matter  of  fact,  efforts,  both  theo- 
retical and  practical,  were  made  simultaneously  in 
both  directions  even  by  Leonardo.  What  Vasari  de- 
scribes as  his  ideal  as  a  youthful  artist:  dar  sommo 
relievo  alle  figure,  remained  so  all  his  life.  Leonardo 
began  with  dark  grounds,  wThich  were  intended  to  set 
off  the  figures,  a  very  different  matter  from  the  plain 
black  which  had  been  previously  employed  as  a  foil. 
He  intensified  the  depth  of  the  shadow  and  expressly 
insisted  on  the  point  that  in  a  picture  deep  shadows 
should  appear  by  the  side  of  high  lights.  ( Trattato  della 
Pittura.)  Even  an  artist  so  essentially  a  draughts- 
man as  Michelangelo  underwent  this  phase  of  the 
development,  and  an  increasing  accentuation  of  the 
shadows  can  be  clearly  traced  in  the  course  of  his  work 


4i2       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


Madonna  with  the  Two  SS.  John  by  Botticelli. 


their  hands  at  dark  grounds  and  boldly  salient  lights. 
Raphael  in  his  Heliodorus  furnished  an  example,  in 
comparison  with  which  not  merely  his  own  Disputa, 
but  also  the  frescoes  of  the  earlier  Florentines  must 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


4i3 


have  all  seemed  flat;  and  what  Quattrocentist  altar- 
piece  would  not  have  suffered  by  being  hung  near  to  a 
picture  of  Fra  Bartolommeo's,  with  its  mighty  plastic 
life?  The  tactile  quality  of  his  figures,  and  the  con- 
vincing dignity  of  his  niches  with  their  great  shadowy 
recesses,  must  have  made  an  impression  at  that  time 
which  we  can  with  difficulty  realise  at  the  present  day. 

The  general  heightening  of  the  relief  naturally  in- 
volved a  change  in  the  frame  of  the  picture.  The 
flat  Quattrocentist  frame  of  pilasters  with  a  light 
entablature  is  discarded,  and  in  its  place  we  get 
a  kind  of  shrine  with  half  or  three-quarter  pillars,  and 
a  massive  roof.  The  fanciful  decorative  treatment  of 
such  objects  is  set  aside  in  favour  of  a  solemn  im- 
pressive architecture  to  which  a  special  chapter  might 
be  devoted.1 

Light  and  shade  were  now  not  only  employed  in 
the  service  of  modelling,  but  were  very  soon  recognised 
as  valuable  aids  to  the  enrichment  of  the  representa- 
tion. When  Leonardo  requires  that  a  dark  foil 
should  be  given  to  the  bright  side  of  the  body,  and 
vice  versa,  he  may  have  been  thinking  solely  of  effects 
by  relief,  but,  as  a  rule,  light  and  shade  are  employed 
on  the  analogy  of  plastic  contraposition.  Michelangelo 
himself  yielded  to  the  charm  of  partial  shadow,  and 
the  later  figures  of  the  Slaves  on  the  ceiling  are  a 
proof  of  this.  There  are  cases  in  which  the  complete 
half  of  a  body  is  immerged  in  shadow  and  this  motive 

1  I  do  not  know  to  what  models  the  gabled  frames  are  to  be 
referred,  which  were  made  some  years  ago  for  two  well-known 
pictures  in  the  Munich  Pinacothek  (Perugino  and  Filippino). 
They  seem  to  me  rather  too  ponderous  and  architectonic. 


414       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


is  almost  enough  to  replace  the  plastic  differentiation 
of  the  body.  Franciabigio's  Venus  (see  page  345)  and 
the  youthful  St.  John  of  Andrea  del  Sarto  come  into 
this  category.  If  we  turn  from  single  figures  and  look 
at  multiform  compositions  we  shall  see  more  clearly 
how  indispensable  these  elements  are  for  the  richer 
art.  What  would  Andrea  del  Sarto  be  without  those 
patches  of  shadow  which  give  a  vibrating  effect  to  his 
compositions,  and  how  greatly  does  the  architectonic 
Fra  Bartolommeo  depend  upon  the  effect  of  pictur- 
esque masses  of  light  and  shade!  Where  these  are 
wanting,  as  in  the  sketch  of  the  St.  Anne,  the  picture 
seems  still  to  lack  the  breath  of  life.  I  will  close  this 
section  with  a  quotation  from  Leonardo's  Trattato 
della  Pittura.  In  the  works  of  one  who  paints  for  an 
uncritical  public,  he  says  incidentally,  little  movement, 
relief,  or  foreshortening  will  be  found.  In  other  words, 
the  artistic  value  of  a  picture,  according  to  him,  de- 
pends on  the  extent  to  which  the  author  is  able  to 
solve  the  problems  enumerated.  Movement,  fore- 
shortening, and  plastic  effect  are  precisely  the  elements 
which  we  tried  to  explain  in  their  significance  for  the 
new  style,  and  thus  if  we  do  not  continue  the  analysis 
further,  Leonardo  may  be  held  responsible. 

4. — Unity  and  Inevitability 

The  idea  of  u  Composition"  was  not  new  and  had 
been  discussed  even  in  the  fifteenth  century,  but  in 
its  strict  sens3  of  co-ord'ration  of  parts,  to  be  seen  as 
a  whole,  it  is  not  found  before  the  sixteenth  century, 
and  what  was  considered  a  composition  before  this 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


4i5 


appeared  as  a  mere  aggregation  without  any  real  form. 
The  Cinquecento  not  only  conceived  a  vaster  scheme 
of  cohesion,  and  understood  the  position  of  the  part 
within  the  whole,  whereas  formerly  one  detail  after 
another  was  regarded  with  close  and  separate  at- 
tention; it  developed  a  union  of  the  parts,  an  in- 
evitability of  arrangement,  in  comparison  with  which 
all  Quattrocentist  work  has  an  incoherent  and  arbi- 
trary effect. 

The  meaning  of  this  may  be  made  clear  by  a  s'ngle 
example.  Let  the  reader  compare  the  composition 
of  Leonardo's  Last  Supper  and  of  Ghirlandajo's.  In 
the  former,  one  central  figure,  dominating  and  bring- 
ing all  the  component  parts  together;  a  company  of 
men,  to  each  of  whom  a  definite  role  is  assigned  within 
the  general  movement  of  the  picture ;  a  building  no 
stone  of  which  could  be  removed  without  destroying 
the  equilibrium  of  the  whole.  In  the  latter,  a  quantity 
of  figures,  closely  packed  together  regardless  of  se- 
quence or  necessary  numerical  limitation.  These 
might  have  been  more  or  fewer,  and  if  each  one  of  them 
had  been  depicted  in  a  different  attitude,  the  look  of 
the  picture  would  not  have  been  essentially  changed. 

Symmetrical  grouping  had  always  been  observed 
in  sacred  pictures,  and  there  are  pictures  of  profane 
subjects,  like  Botticelli's  Springy  which  carry  out  the 
principle  that  there  should  be  a  central  figure  and 
that  the  two  sides  should  be  equally  balanced.  The 
sixteenth  century,  however,  could  not  rest  satisfied 
with  this.  The  central  figure  was  after  all  only  one 
among  the  others,  the  whole  was  a  combination  of 
parts  in  which  each  had  almost  the  same  value.  In- 


416       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


stead  of  a  chain  of  similar  links,  a  structure  was 
now  required  with  a  distinct  system  of  super-  and 
subordination.  Subordination  took  the  place  of 
co-ordination. 

I  will  take  one  of  the  simplest  instances,  the  sacred 
picture  with  three  figures.  In  Botticelli's  picture 
at  Berlin  (see  illustration  on  p.  412)  there  are  three 
persons  close  together,  each  an  independent  figure, 
and  the  three  similar  niches  in  the  background 
emphasise  the  idea  that  the  picture  could  be  cut  up 
into  three  parts.  This  idea  never  presents  itself  in 
connection  with  the  classical  version  of  the  theme,  as 
we  see  it  in  Andrea  del  Sarto's  Madonna  of  15 17  (see 
illustration  on  p.  256).  The  secondary  figures  are 
still  indeed  limbs  which  would  have  a  certain  im- 
portance by  themselves,  but  the  commanding  position 
of  the  central  figure  is  evident  and  the  connection 
seems  insoluble.  The  transformation  to  the  new  style 
was  more  difficult  in  historical  pictures  than  in  these 
sacred  pictures,  for  the  basis  of  a  central  scheme  had  to 
be  invented  here.  The  later  Quattrocentists  made 
frequent  attempts,  and  Ghirlandajo  in  the  frescoes 
of  S.  Maria  Novella  shows  himself  one  of  the  most 
assiduous  in  this  direction.  It  is  noticeable  that  he 
is  no  longer  content  with  the  mere  fortuitous  juxta- 
position of  figures.  In  places  at  least  he  has  devoted 
himself  with  all  seriousness  to  architectonic  com- 
position. 

Nevertheless  Andrea  surprises  the  spectator  by 
his  frescoes  of  the  life  of  the  Baptist  in  the  Scalzo. 
Eager  to  avoid  the  incidental  at  any  cost,  and  to 
obtain  the  impression  of  inevitability,  he  made  most 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  417 


unpromising  motives  subject  to  the  central  scheme. 
His  example  was  universally  followed.  The  rules  of  ar- 
rangement forced  their  way  into  the  wild  and  crowded 
scenes  of  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents  (Daniele 
da  Volterra,  Uffizi),  and  even  stories  like  the  Calumny 
of  Apelles,  which  so  evidently  require  an  oblong  field, 
are  worked  up  round  a  central  motive,  to  the  detri- 
ment of  their  clarity.  Franciabigio  on  a  small  scale 
(Pitti),  and  Girolami  Genga  on  a  large  scale  (Pesaro 
Villa  Imperiale),  supply  instances. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  describe  in  detail  how  far 
the  rule  was  again  relaxed,  and  how  the  laws  of  re- 
presentation were  modified  to  permit  of  a  more  vivid 
impression.  The  Vatican  frescoes  contain  well- 
known  examples  of  broken  symmetry  in  the  midst 
of  a  style  which  remains  purely  tectonic.  It  must, 
however,  be  emphatically  said  that  no  one  could  make 
proper  use  of  this  freedom  who  had  not  been  accus- 
tomed to  compose  on  the  strictest  system.  The  partial 
relaxation  of  form  could  be  effective  only  on  the  basis 
of  a  firmly  fixed  idea  of  form. 1 

The  same  holds  good  of  the  composition  of  the 
single  group,  in  which,  since  Leonardo,  an  analogous 
striving  after  tectonic  configurations  can  be  traced. 
The  Madonna  among  the  Rocks  may  be  contained  in  an 

1  This  is  a  suitable  occasion  to  mention  a  motive  of  perspective. 
The  later  Quattroc2nto  attempted  sometimes  to  produce  an 
attractive  effect  by  placing  the  vanishing  point  of  the  lines  at 
the  side,  not  outside  the  picture,  but  yet  towards  the  edge.  This 
is  seen  in  Filippino's  Corsini  Madonna  (see  illustration,  p.  320) 
and  in  Ghirlandajo's  fresco  of  the  Visitation.  Such  divagations 
offended  classical  feeling. 
27 


418       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


equilateral  triangle,  and  this  geometrical  property, 
which  is  at  once  visible  to  the  spectator,  differentiates 
the  work  marvellously  from  all  other  pictures  of  the 
time.  Artists  felt  the  benefit  of  a  compact  arrange- 
ment, where  the  group  appears  inevitable  as  a  whole, 
though  no  single  figure  has  suffered  any  loss  of  free 
movement.  Perugino  followed  on  the  same  lines  with 
his  Pieta  of  1495,  to  which  no  analogy  could  have  been 
found  either  with  Filippino  or  Ghirlandajo.  Raphael 
finally,  in  his  Florentine  Madonna  pictures,  developed 
into  the  subtlest  of  master-builders.  But  here  again 
the  change  from  regularity  to  apparent  irregularity 
was  irresistible.  The  equilateral  triangle  became  a 
scalene  triangle,  and  the  system  of  symmetrical  axes 
was  shifted,  but  the  kernel  of  the  effect  remained  the 
same,  and  the  impression  of  inevitability  would  be 
kept  up  even  in  an  entirely  non-tectonic  group.  Thus 
we  are  led  up  to  the  great  composition  of  the  free  style. 

We  find  with  Raphael  just  as  with  Sarto  a  freely 
rhythmic  composition  combined  with  the  tectonic 
scheme.  In  the  court  of  the  Annunziata  the  picture 
of  the  Birth  of  the  Virgin  comes  next  to  the  severe 
rendering  of  miraculous  scenes,  and  in  the  tapestries 
we  find  an  Ananias  immediately  beside  the  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes  or  the  Calling  of  Peter.  These  are 
not  antiquated  motives  which  are  merely  tolerated. 
This  free  style  is  distinct  from  the  former  irregularity, 
where  one  thing  might  just  as  well  have  been  another. 
Some  such  emphatic  expression  is  needed  to  accentuate 
the  contrast.  The  fifteenth  century  can  in  fact  show 
nothing  which  even  approximately  possesses  that 
character   of   absolute  Tightness    and  inevitability 


420      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


which  we  find  in  the  group  of  Raphael's  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes.  The  figures  are  not  bound  together 
by  any  architecture,  and  yet  they  form  a  perfectly 
compact  structure.  Similarly — although  in  a  some- 
what less  degree — in  Sarto's  Birth  of  the  Virgin  the 
figures  are  brought  into  one  line,  and  the  whole  line 
has  a  convincingly  harmonious  inevitability.  To 
make  the  case  quite  clear  I  venture  to  illustrate  it  by 
an  instance  from  Venetian  art,  as  here  the  conditions 
are  especially  favourable  for  observation.  I  refer  to 
the  Murder  of  Peter  Martyr  in  the  National  Gallery, 
London,  as  painted  by  a  Quattrocentist, 1  and  as,  on 
the  other  hand,  it  was  reduced  to  classical  form  by 
Titian  in  the  burnt  picture  in  the  Church  of  S.  Gio- 
vanni e  Paolo. 

The  Quattrocentist  spells  out  the  elements  of  the 
story.  There  is  a  wood,  and  the  persons  attacked, 
namely,  the  saint  and  his  companion;  the  one  flees  this 
way,  the  other  that.  The  one  is  stabbed  to  the  right, 
the  other  to  the  left.  Titian  starts  with  the  idea  that 
two  analogous  scenes  cannot  be  depicted  in  close  prox- 
imity. The  death  of  Peter  is  the  chief  motive,  with 
which  nothing  must  compete.  He  accordingly  leaves 
the  second  murderer  out,  and  treats  the  attendant 
friar  only  as  a  fugitive.  At  the  same  time  he  sub- 
ordinates him  to  the  main  motive;  he  is  included  in 
the  same  connected  movement,  and  by  continuing  the 
direction  intensifies  the  fury  of  the  onslaught.  As 
if  he  were  a  fragment  bounding  off  from  the  main 

1  The  ascription  of  the  picture  to  Giovanni  Bellini  now  appears 
to  be  universally  abandoned.  Berenson  attributes  it  to  Gentile 
Bellini.    {Venetian  Painters,  1894.) 


The  Death  of  Peter  Martyr,  by  Titian. 


421 


422       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


group  at  the  shock,  he  hurls  himself  forward  in  the 
direction  towards  which  the  saint  has  fallen.  Thus 
a  distracting  and  inharmonious  element  has  become  an 
indispensable  factor  in  the  effect.  If  we  use  philo- 
sophic terms  to  describe  the  p  :ess,  we  may  say  that 
development  here  implies  integration  and  differentia- 
tion. Each  motive  is  to  appear  only  once,  the  anti- 
quated equivalence  of  the  parts  is  to  be  replaced  by 
absolute  distinction,  and  at  the  same  time  the  differ- 
entiated elements  must  combine  into  a  whole,  where 
no  part  could  be  omitted  without  the  collapse  of  the 
whole  structure.  This  system  of  classical  art  had 
been  anticipated  by  L.  B.  Alberti,  when  in  an  often 
quoted  passage  he  defined  perfection  as  a  condition  in 
which  the  smallest  part  could  not  be  changed  without 
marring  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  Here  we  have  a 
visible  proof  of  what  he  puts  forward  as  a  theory. 

The  treatment  of  the  trees  may  teach  us  how  in 
such  a  composition  Titian  employed  all  accessories  to 
heighten  the  main  effect.  Whereas  in  the  older 
picture  the  forest  seemed  a  thing  apart,  Titian  made 
the  trees  share  in  the  movement ;  they  take  part  in  the 
action,  and  thus  lend  grandeur  and  spirit  to  the  in- 
cident in  a  novel  way. 

When,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  Domenichino, 
closely  following  Titian,  retold  the  story  in  a  well- 
known  picture  now  in  the  Gallery  at  Bologna,  the 
feeling  for  all  this  artistic  wisdom  had  become  blunted. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  state  that  the  employment  of  a 
landscape-background  harmonising  with  the  action  of 
the  figures,  was  as  familiar  in  Cinquecentist  Rome  as  in 
Venice.    The  importance  of  the  landscape  in  Raphael's 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


423 


Miraculous  Draught  has  already  been  discussed. 
The  next  tapestry,  the  Charge  to  Peter,  presents  the 


St.  Jerome,  by  Basaiti. 


same  spectacle:  the  summit  of  the  long  line  of  hills 
exactly  coincides  with  the  caesura  of  the  group,  and 
thus  quietly  yet  emphatically  helps  to  make  the  dis- 


424       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


ciples  appear  a  distinct  group  as  contrasted  with  the 
figure  of  Christ  (cf.  the  illustration  on  p.  171).  But 

if  I  may  again  ap- 
peal to  a  Venetian 
example,  Basaiti's 
St.  Jerome  (Lon- 
don), when  com- 
pared with 
Titian's  corre- 
sponding figure 
(in  the  Brera), 
may  represent 
with  all  desirable 
clearness  the  dif- 
fer en  t  way  in 
which  the  two 
ages  understood 
the  subject.  In 
the  former  pic- 
ture there  is  a 
landscape  which 
is  intended  to 
have  some  mean- 
ing by  itself,  and 
into  which  the 
saint  is  inserted, 
without  any  sort 
of  necessary  con- 
nection. In  the  latter,  the  figure  and  the  line  of  the 
mountain  have  been  imagined  together  from  the  first 
inception:  there  is  an  abrupt  wooded  slope,  which 
powerfully  assists  the  upward  action  in  the  form  of 


St.  Jerome,  by  Titian. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form 


425 


the  recluse,  and  absolutely  forces  him  heavenwards. 
The  landscape  is  as  well  adapted  to  this  particular 
figure  as  the  other  was  inappropriate. 

Similarly,  the  architectural  backgrounds  were  no 
longer  regarded  as  an  arbitrary  embellishment  of  the 
picture,  on  the  principle  of  "  the  more  the  better,  "  but 
the  necessary  fitness  of  such  adjuncts  was  considered. 
There  had  always  been  a  feeling  that  the  dignity  of 
human  forms  could  be  increased  by  architectural 
surroundings,  but  usually  the  buildings  overwhelmed 
the  figures.  Ghirlandajo's  gorgeous  architecture 
was  far  too  rich  to  set  off  his  figures  favourably, 
and  where  it  was  simply  a  question  of  a  figure  in  a 
niche,  it  is  astonishing  to  see  how  little  the  Quattro- 
centists  attempted  effective  combinations.  Filippo 
Lippi  carried  his  principle  of  isolated  treatment  so  far 
that  his  sitting  saints  in  the  Academy  do  not  even 
correspond  to  the  niches  of  the  wall  behind  them,  an 
exhibition  of  casual  treatment  which  must  have 
seemed  intolerable  to  the  Cinquecento.  He  evidently 
aimed  at  the  charm  of  vivacity  rather  than  at  dignity. 
The  Risen  Christ  in  the  Pitti  Palace  shows  how  Fra 
Bartolommeo  was  able  to  give  his  heroes  grandeur  in 
a  very  different  way,  by  intersecting  the  top  of  the 
niche.  It  would  be  superfluous  to  refer  to  all  the 
other  examples  of  Cinquecentist  employment  of  archi- 
tecture, in  cases  where  the  architecture  seems  an 
imposing  expression  of  the  actual  persons  represented. 

While  dealing  with  the  universal  wish  to  correlate 
the  parts  of  the  whole  composition,  we  meet  with  a 
point  of  classical  taste  which  invites  criticism  of  the 
earlier  art  in  general,  and  carries  us  far  beyond  the 


426       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


domain  of  mere  painting.  Vasari  records  a  character- 
istic incident :  the  architecture  of  the  anteroom  to  the 
sacristy  of  S.  Spirito  in  Florence  was  blamed  because 
the  lines  of  the  compartments  of  the  vaulted  roof  did 
not  coincide  with  the  axis  of  the  pillars.1  This  critic- 
ism might  have  been  applied  to  a  hundred  other 
places.  The  deficiency  of  continuous  lines,  end  the 
treatment  of  each  part  by  itself  without  regard  to  the 
unity  of  the  total  effect,  were  among  the  most  striking 
peculiarities  of  Quattrocentist  art. 

From  the  moment  when  architecture  shook  off  the 
playful  irresponsibility  of  youth  and  became  mature, 
sedate,  and  stern,  it  took  the  command  of  all  the  other 
arts.  The  Cinquecento  conceived  everything  sub 
specie  architecture.  The  plastic  figures  on  tombs 
had  their  appropriate  place  assigned  to  them;  they 
were  enframed,  enclosed,  and  pillowed.  Nothing 
could  be  shifted  or  changed,  even  in  thought.  It  is 
evident  at  once  why  each  piece  was  there  and  not  a 
little  higher  up  or  lower  down.  I  may  refer  to  the 
discussion  of  Rossellino  and  Sansovino  on  pp.  105-108. 
Painting  underwent  a  similar  process.  When  as 
fresco-painting  it  came  into  relation  with  architecture, 
the  latter  always  had  the  upper  hand.  Yet  what 
marvellous  liberties  Filippino  takes  in  the  frescoes 
of  S.  Maria  Novella!  He  extends  the  floor  of  his 
stage  so  that  the  figures  stand  partly  in  front  of  the 
line  of  the  wall,  and  then  are  brought  into  a  remark- 
able relation  with  the  real  architectural  portions  of  the 
framework.    This  had  also  been  done  by  Signorelli 

1  Vasari,  iv.,.513  {Vita  di  A.  Contucci),  where  also  the  excuses  . 
made  by  the  architect  may  be  read  with  interest. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  427 


at  Orvieto.  Sculpture  shows  an  analogous  case  in 
Verrocchio's  St.  Thomas  group,  where  the  action  is 
not  confined  to  the  inside  of  the  niche,  but  takes  place 
partly  outside.  No  Cinquecentist  would  have  done 
this.  With  him  it  was  an  obvious  assumption  that 
painting  must  produce  the  illusion  of  a  space  in  the 
depth  of  the  wall,  and  that  its  enframement  must 
suggest  the  entrance  to  its  stage.1 

Architecture,  which  had  now  become  homogeneous, 
demanded  a  like  unity  in  frescoes.  Leonardo  had  held 
that  it  was  not  permissible  to  paint  picture  above 
picture  as  in  the  choir-paintings  of  Ghirlandajo, 
where  we  look  as  it  were  into  the  different  storeys  of  a 
house  all  at  once. 2  He  would  hardly  have  sanctioned 
the  painting  of  two  pictures  close  together  on  the  wall 
of  a  choir  or  a  chapel,  while  the  path  which  Ghir- 
landajo struck  out  in  the  adjoining  pictures  of  the 
Visitation  and  the  Rejection  of  Joachim's  Sacrifice 
would  have  seemed  preposterous.  He  carried  the 
scenery  behind  the  dividing  pilaster,  and  each  picture 
has  its  own  perspective,  which  is  not  even  similar  to 
that  of  the  neighbouring  composition. 

The  tendency  to  paint  uniform  surfaces  uniformly 
became  prevalent  in  the  sixteenth  century,  but  now  a 
more  advanced  problem  was  taken  up,  the  problem  of 
harmonising  the  interior  and  the  covering  of  the  wall, 

1  Though  Masaccio  had  established  very  clear  ideas  on  the 
subject,  in  the  course  of  the  century  they  had  again  become  so 
confused  that  frescoes  are  found  which  meet  in  angles  without 
any  borders  between  them.  It  would  be  interesting  to  follow 
out  connectedly  the  architectural  treatment  of  frescoes. 

2  Trattato  delta  Pittura. 


428       Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


so  that  the  spaciously  conceived  picture  seemed  to 
have  been  created  for  the  hall  or  chapel  where  it  was, 
the  one  explaining  the  other.  When  this  result  is 
attained,  there  is  a  sort  of  melody  of  space,  an  im- 
pression of  harmony,  which  must  be  included  among 
the  highest  achievements  attainable  by  pictorial  art. 

We  have  already  said  how  little  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury understood  unity  of  treatment  in  an  interior,  and 
how  indifferent  it  was  to  the  effect  of  each  detail  in  its 
place.  The  observation  may  be  extended  to  larger 
spaces,  such  as  public  squares.  We  might  instance 
the  great  equestrian  figures  of  Colleoni  and  Gatte- 
melata,  and  ask  whether  anyone  at  the  present  day 
would  venture  to  erect  them  so  entirely  independently 
of  the  chief  axis  of  the  square  or  the  church.  Modern 
opinion  is  represented  in  Giovanni  da  Bologna's 
mounted  princes  at  Florence,  but  in  such  a  way  that 
much  still  remains  for  us  to  learn.  Finally,  the  homo- 
geneous conception  of  space  makes  itself  most  widely 
felt  in  cases  where  architecture  and  landscape  are  in- 
cluded in  one  point  of  view.  We  might  call  to  mind  the 
grounds  of  villas  and  public  gardens,  the  selection  of 
wide  prospects  for  points  of  view,  etc.  The  Baroque 
period  reckoned  with  these  effects  on  a  larger  scale, 
but  anyone  who  has  looked  from  the  high  terrace  of 
the  magnificent  and  incomparably  situated  Villa 
Imperiale  at  Pesaro  towards  the  hills  over  Urbino, 
where  the  whole  country  is  subordinated  to  the  castle, 
will  have  received  an  impression  of  the  majestic 
ordination  of  the  High  Renaissance,  which  could 
hardly  be  surpassed  by  the  most  colossal  achieve- 
ments of  later  times. 


The  New  Pictorial  Form  429 

There  is  a  conception  of  the  history  of  Art,  which 
sees  in  Art  merely  a  " translation  of  life"  into  pictorial 
language,  and  tries  to  make  every  style  compre- 
hensible as  an  expression  of  the  prevalent  spirit  of  the 
time.  Would  anyone  deny  that  this  is  a  profitable 
way  of  looking  at  the  question?  Yet  it  leads  only  to  a 
certain  fixed  point,  one  might  almost  say  only  as  far 
as  the  point  where  Art  begins.  Anyone  who  restricts 
himself  to  the  subject-matter  in  works  of  art  will  be 
satisfied  with  it,  but  as  soon  as  he  wishes  to  estimate 
things  by  artistic  standards,  he  is  compelled  to  deal 
with  formal  elements  which  are  in  themselves  in- 
expressive, and  belong  to  a  development  of  a  purely 
optical  kind. 

Quattrocento  and  Cinquecento  as  terms  for  a  style 
cannot  be  explained  by  material  characteristics.  The 
phenomenon  has  a  double  root,  and  points  to  a  de- 
velopment of  the  artistic  vision  which  is  essentially 
independent  of  any  particular  feeling  or  particular 
ideal  of  beauty. 

The  imposing  gestures  of  the  Cinquecento,  its 
dignified  attitudes,  and  its  spacious  and  powerful 
beauty  characterise  the  spirit  of  the  generation  of 
that  day.  At  the  same  time,  everything  that  we  have 
said  as  to  the  increased  clarity  of  pictorial  representa- 
tion, and  the  desire  of  the  cultured  eye  for  richer  and 
more  suggestive  aspects,  until  a  multiplicity  of  effects 
can  be  visualised  as  a  collected  whole,  and  the  details 
comprehended  as  parts  of  an  inevitable  unity,  con- 
stitute formal  elements,  which  cannot  be  inferred 
from  the  spirit  of  the  age. 

The  classical  character  of  Cinquecentist  art  rests 


43°      Art  of  Italian  Renaissance 


on  these  formal  elements.  We  have  to  deal  with 
recurring  phases  of  development  and  continuous  forms 
of  art.  The  merits  which  placed  Raphael  at  the  head 
of  the  older  generation  were  the  same  as  those  which 
made  Ruysdael,  under  very  different  conditions,  a 
classicist  among  the  Dutch  landscape  painters. 

By  saying  this  we  do  not  wish  to  advocate  a  form- 
alistic  view  of  art.  Even  the  diamond  requires  light 
to  make  it  sparkle. 


Holy  Family,  by  Bronzino. 


INDEX 


A 

Albertinelli,  Mariotto  (1474- 
1515):  "The  Annunciation," 
230-2;  "The  Crucifixion," 
228;  "The  Holy  Trinity," 
228-9;  "Madonna  with  Two 
Kneeling  Saints,"  199-201; 
"The  Visitation, "  227-8. 

Allegri,  Antonio  da  Correggio 
(1494-1534),  23. 

Amerighi,  Michelangelo  (1569- 

1609),  359- 
Ammanati,  Bartolommeo 
(1511-1592),  "Neptune," 
290. 

Andrea  del  Sarto,  see  Sarto, 

Andrea  del. 
Angelico,  Fra  Giovanni  (1387- 

1455),  374- 
Antonio,  Marc,  32,  45,  46,  210, 

369- 

B 

Baroccio,  Federigo  (1528- 
161 2):  "Institution  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  "  46;  "Ma- 
donna del  Popolo, "  223. 

Bartolommeo,  Fra  (1475- 
151 7):  "The  Annunciation,  " 
230,  232;  "The  Baptism  of 
Christ,"  301;  "God  Al- 
mighty," 201,  215-16;  "The 
Last  Judgment,"  213-14; 
"Madonna,"  220-21;  "Ma- 
donna della  Misericordia, " 
221-23;  "Madonna  with 
Saints,"  220;  "The  Mar- 
riage of  St.  Catherine,  "217- 


19;  "Patron  Saints  of 
Florence,"  217;  "Pieta," 
224-27,  379,  382;  "The 
Risen  Christ  with  Four 
Evangelists,"  132,  212-13, 
223-25,425 ;  "St.  Sebastian," 
212-13;  "Virgin  Appearing 
to  St.  Bernard,"  214,  323. 

Basaiti,  Marco  (c.  1503-f. 
1521),  "St.  Jerome,"  423-4- 

Bellini,  Gentile  (c.  1426-1507): 
"The  Death  of  Peter  Mar- 
tyr," 419. 

Bellini,  Giovanni  (c.  1428- 
1516):  "The  Transfigura- 
tion, "  203-5. 

Benedetto  da  Majano:  "Angel 
Bearing  Candelabrum,"  23; 
"Madonna  and  Child,"  70; 
"St.  John,"  339,  356. 

Bigio,  Francia  (1 482-1 525): 
"Blessing  of  St.  John" 
(1518),  251;  "Portrait  of  a 
Young  Man,"  271;  "Spo- 
salizio"  (Annunziata),  241; 
"Venus,"  345,  414. 

BoltrafTio,  Giovanni  Antonio 
(1467-1516):  44  La  Belle  Fer- 
roniere, "  53;  "Madonna 
with  the  Child,"  53;  "The 
Risen  Lord,"  53. 

Bondone,  Giotto  di,  see  Giotto. 

Botticelli,  Sandro,  see  Filipepi. 

Bronzino,  Angelo  (1502-1572): 
"An  Allegory,"  285;  "Christ 
in  Limbo,"  292;  44  Holy 
Family, "  430. 

Bugiardini:  "Betrothal  of  St. 
Catherine,"  318  ;  44  Madonna 
del  latte, "  318. 


431 


432 


Index 


Buonarroti,  Michelangelo 
(1475-1564):  "Apollo,"  77, 
400;  "Bacchus"  (1498),  74- 
76,  339»  401;  "Bathing  Sol- 
diers," 79-8o,  87,  113,  238; 
"The  Battle  of  the  Cen- 
taurs, "  79 ;  "  Christ, "  284-5, 
401 ;  "The  Conversion  of  St. 
Paul,"  288-9;  "The  Crea- 
tion of  Adam,"  103;  "The 
Creation  of  Eve,"  89,  103; 
"Crouching  Boy,"  282; 
"Crucifixion  of  St.  Peter," 
288-9; "David,''  74~79i  IX3I 
"The  Drunkenness  of 
Noah,"  87,  103;  "Dying 
Slaves,"  105;  "The  Expul- 
sion," 88,  401;  "The  Fall," 
88;  "Figures  of  Slaves, "  97, 
98;  "The  Flood,"  87,  103; 
"Giovannino, "  75,  401; 
"Giovanni  delle  Bande 
Neri,"28i;  "  Holy  Family," 
72,  124,  329,  385,  390,  405; 
"Judith,"  92;  "The  Last 
Judgment,"  84,  273,  287; 
"Light  and  Darkness,"  91; 
"Madonna,"  405;  "Madon- 
na with  a  Book,"  69,  372; 
"Madonna  of  Bruges,"  66- 
68,74,282-3;  "The  Madon- 
na of  the  Medici,"  283 ;  "The 
Madonna  on  the  Steps," 
7o;"Pieta":  Cathedral, 
Florence,  74,  286-8;  St. 
Peter's,  Rome,  65-68,  74, 
in,  273,  305,  324;  "The 
Prophets  and  Sibyls,"  92- 
97;  "The  Sacrifice  of 
Noah,"  86,  87,  103;  "St. 
Matthew,"  79,  no;  Ceil- 
ing of  the  Sistine  Chapel, 
82-104,  378;  "The  Slaves," 
97-103;  "The  Tomb  of 
Julius  II,"  105-112;  "The 
Tombs  of  the  Medici,"  273- 
81,  403;  "Victory,"  286; 
"  Vittoria  Colonna, "  349. 


C 

Caravaggio  (Amerighi,  Michel- 
angelo), 359. 

Carpaccio,  Vittore  (c.  1450 — 
after  1522),  "The  Presen- 
tation in  the  Temple,"  380. 

Carracci,  L.,  "The  Trans- 
figuration, "  208. 

Cellini,  Benvenuto,  "Perseus" 
(i55o),  347,  397- 

Correggio,  see  Allegri,  Antonio. 

Cosimo,  Piero  di,  see  Piero  di 
Cosimo. 

Credi,  Lorenzo  di  (1459-1537): 
"Venus,"  344,  347  ;  "Verroc- 
chio,"  374. 

D 

Desiderioda  Settignano  (1428- 
1464):  "Bust  of  a  Floren- 
tine Girl,"  48;  "Tomb  of 
Marsuppini, "  310,  355. 

Domenichino,  see  Zampieri, 
Domenico. 

Donatello  (1386- 1466) :  Bronze 
Door  of  San  Lorenzo,  Flor- 
rence,  143,  144;  "David," 
16,  18,  74,  333,  399;  "Cat- 
temelata, "  19,  428;  "Mira- 
cles of  St.  Anthony,"  16; 
"St.  John,"  16. 

F 

Fiesole,  Mino  da,  see  Mino  d* 
Fiesole. 

Filipepi,  Sandro  (1446-15 10) 
(Sandro  Botticelli):  "Ado^ 
ration  of  the  Kings,"  26,  32, 
394;  "Allegory  of  Spring," 
25,352,367,415-6;  "Birth 
of  Venus, "  364;  "Calumny 
of  Apelles, "  364,  417;  "Exo- 
dus of  the  Jews  from  Egypt," 
311;  "  Madonna  with  Angels 
and  Six  Saints,"  405;  "Ma- 


Index 


433 


Filipepi — Continued 

donna  with  the  Two  SS. 
John,"  409,  412,  416; 
"Pieta,"  373;  "The  Re- 
bellion of  Korah,"  312; 
"Venus  on  the  Shell,"  332, 
364. 

Francesea,  Piero  della  (141 5- 
1492),  "The  Annuncia- 
tion," 305. 

G 

Ghirlandajo,  Domenico  del 
( 1 449- 1 490) :  "The  Adora- 
tion of  the  Kings,"  33,  408; 
"The  Adoration  of  the 
Shepherds"  (1485),  314; 
"Attendant  Carrying  Fruit," 
340;  "Birth  of  St.  John," 
354,  409;  "Birth  of  the 
Virgin,"  29;  Frescoes,  22, 
23,  28,  416;  "The  Last 
Supper"  (1480),  38-47,  306- 
8,  415;  "Madonna  in 
Glory,"  195-6;  "The  Mar- 
riage of  the  Virgin,"  2$; 
"The  Preaching  of  John 
the  Baptist,"  244-46;  "The 
Presentation  of  Mary  in  the 
Temple,"  28,  329;  "Rejec- 
tion of  Joachim's  Sacrifice," 
394,427;  "The  Visitation": 
Louvre  (1491),  227,  326-7, 
394;  Santa  Maria  Novella, 
Florence,  427;  "Zacharias 
in  the  Temple, "  330. 

Gianpietrino,  "  Abundantia, " 
61,  62. 

Giotto  di  Bondone  (1266- 
1336):  Frescoes,  II,  13, 
14;  "Presentation  of  Mary 
in  the  Temple, "  28. 

Giovanni  da  Udine,  359. 

Gozzoli,  Benozzo  (1420-  1498): 
"The  Drunkenness  of  Noah, 
297;  "Procession  of  the 
^  Kings,"  374. 

Guido,  Tommaso,s£eMasaccio. 


j 

Jacopo  da  Pontormo,  see 
Pontormo,  Jacopo  da. 

L 

Leonardo  da  Vinci,  see  Vinci. 

Lippi,  Filippino  (1459-1504): 
"The  Assumption,"  27; 
"Madonna  and  Child  with 
Angels,"  320;  "Music,"  359; 
"The  Resuscitation  of  Dru- 
siana,  "406;  "The  Triumph 
of  St.  Thomas,"  139;  "Virgin 
Appearing  to  St.  Bernard," 
116,  214;  "Virgin  with 
Saints,"  27. 

Lippi,  Fra  Filippo  (c.  141 2- 
1469):  "Coronation  of  the 
Virgin,"  23;  Frescoes,  22- 
23. 

Luciani,  Sebastiano  {c.  1485- 
1547)  (Sebastian  del  Piom- 
bo):  "Birth  of  the  Virgin," 
239;  "Christ  Bearing  the 
Cross,"  209;  "Dorothea," 
1 90-1,  350;  "The  Flagel- 
lation," 209;  "Pieta,"  209; 
"The  Resurrection  of  Laza- 
rus," 209;  "Three  Female, 
wSaints,"  379-80;  "The  Ve- 
netian Maiden,"  190;  "The 
Violin  Player,"  188-9,  264; 
"The  Visitation,"  209,  305. 

Luini,  Bernardino  (c.  1475), 
"Susanna  at  the  Bath,"  62. 

M 

Masaccio,  Tommaso  Guidi: 
"The  Birth  of  the  Virgin," 
238;  Frescoes,  13,  22. 

Michelangelo,  see  Buonarroti. 

Mino  da  Fiesole,  49. 

Montorsoli,  "St.  Cosmo," 
400-1. 


28 


434 


Index 


p 


Pacchia,  Girolamo  del  (b.  1477) , 

"Scenes  from  the  Life  of  the 

Virgin, "  328. 
Palma,  Jacopo    (II  Vecchio) 

(1480-1528),  "St.  Barbara," 

381. 

Perugino,  see  Vannucci. 

Piero  di  Cosimo,  (1462-1521): 
"La  Bella  Simonetta, "  346, 
348;  "Venus  and  Mars," 
.390,392. 

Piero  dei  Franceschi,  see  Fran- 
cesca. 

Pippi,  Giulio  (or  de'  Giannuzzi) 

(1492-1546),  "The  Stoning 

of  Stephen, "  156. 
Pisano,    Andrea,  Baptistry 

Gates  at  Florence,  10. 
Pisano,  Giovanni,  .10. 
Pollaiuolo,    Antonio,  (1429- 

1498):  Engravings  by,  81; 

"Prudence, "  384. 
Pontormo,  Jacopo  da,  (1494- 

1557),    "The  Visitation," 

219,240,  326-7. 

R 

Raphael,  see  Sanzio,  Raffaello. 
Robbia,  Luca  della:  "Angel 

Bearing  Candelabrum,"  21; 

"  Philosophy, "  143. 
Romano,    Giulio,    see  Pippi, 

Giulio. 

Rosselli,  Cosimo,  "The  Last 
Supper,"  311. 

Rossellino,  Antonio:  "Ma- 
donna" (relief),  20,  372; 
"Tomb  of  the  Cardinal," 
22,  355. 

Rubens,  Peter  Paul  (1577- 
1640):  "The  Entomb- 
ment," 294;  "The  Last 
Supper,"  47;  "Lion  Hunt," 
59. 


S 

Sansovino,  Andrea:  "Eap- 
tism  of  Christ,"  300; 
"Justitia,"  252;  "St.  Anne," 
(1512),  405;  Tomb  in  Santa 
Maria  del  Popolo,  Rome, 
107-109. 

Sansovino,  J.,  "St.  John  the 
Baptist, "  402-3. 

Sanzio,  Raffaello  (1 483-1 520), 
(Raphael):  "The  Battle 
of  Constantine, "  59;  Car- 
toons at  South  Kensington, 
(1515-1516):  "The  Blinding 
of  Elymas,"  177-8,  180; 
"The  Charge  to  St.  Peter," 
170-2,180,418,423;.  "The 
Death  of  Ananias,"  174-7, 
180,  418;  "The  Healing 
of  the  Lame  Man,"  173- 
4,  180;  "The  Miraculous 
Draught  of  Fishes,  "  166-170 
180,  324,  418;  "  The  Sacri- 
fice at  Lystra, "  178,  180; 
"St.  Paul  Preaching  at 
Athens,"  179,  180;  "The 
Chastisement  of  Heliodo- 
rus,"  154-8,  328,  382-3, 
406,  412;  "The  Corona- 
tion of  the  Virgin"  (Sketch 
for  Tapestry) ,  302 ;  "  Th e 
Deliverance  of  Peter," 
158-161;  "The  Disputa," 
132-141,  145,  213-4,  236, 
412;  "The  Entombment," 
124,  294,  394;  "The  Five 
Saints,"  school  of,  302; 
"Incendio  del  Borgo,"  164, 
329,342;  "Jurisprudence," 
152-3;  "The  Last  Supper," 
by  school  of,  engraved  by 
Marc  Antonio,  46;  Ma- 
donnas: "La  Belle  Jar- 
diniere," 129;  "Bridgewater 
Madonna,"  126,  "Ma- 
donna del  Baldacchino, " 
131;    "Madonna  del  Car- 


Index 


435 


Sanzio —  Contin  ued 

dellino,"  128;  "  Madonna 
del  la  Casa  Alba,"  56, 
129,  130,  385;  "Madon- 
na della  Casa  Canigiani, " 
129;  "Casa  Tempi  Ma- 
donna," 126,  306;  "Ma- 
donna del  divino  Amore, " 
130;  "Madonna  with  the 
Fish,"  198-9;  "Madonna 
di  Foligno,"  33,  193,  200, 
322,  339-41;  "Madonna 
of  Francis  I.,"  125,  131,  306; 
"Madonna  del  Granduca, " 
126;  "Madonna  in  the 
Meadow,"  129;  "Orleans 
Madonna,"  126;  "Madon- 
na della  Sedia, "  127-9, 
306;  "Sistine  Madonna 
38,  200-202,  215-16,  323, 
378,  381 ;  "Marriage  of  the 
Virgin,"  117-8;  "The 
Mass  of  Bolsena,"  161-5, 
378;  "The  Meeting  of  Leo 
I.  and  Attila,  "  164;  "Mount 
Parnassus,"  147-151,  367; 
Portraits:  "Beazzano  and 
Navagero,"  188;  "Count 
Castiglione, "  184,  186; 
"Donna  Velata, "  190-3; 
"La  Fornarina, "  190,  350; 
"Inghirami,"  184,  186; 
"Julius  II.,  182-4;  Mad- 
dalenaDoni,"  52,  182,  192; 
"Portrait  of  a  Cardinal," 
186-8;  "St.  Catherine,"  194; 
"St.  Cecelia,"  193-4,  25&> 
382;  "St.  John  the  Bap- 
tist," 264-6,  347,  379; 
"The  School  of  Athens," 
132-4,  141-7,  218,  236,367; 
"Spasimo,"  209;  "Galatea" 
84,  332;  "The  Transfigura- 
tion," 203-8,  342,  382; 
"Women  Carrying  Water," 
341-2;  "The  Youthful  St. 
John  Preaching,"  334.  ^ 

Sarto,  Andrea  del  (1486-1531): 


"Abraham's  Sacrifice,"  264; 
"The  Announcement  to 
Zacharias, "  250;  "The  An- 
nunciation" (15 12  and  1528), 
230,  232,  244,  253,  255; 
"The  Arrest,"  247;  "The 
Assumption,"  265-6;  "The 
Baptism  of  Christ"  (151 1 ) , 
242,  244,  251;  "The  Bap- 
tism of  the  People." 
247;  "The  Beheading," 
248;  "The  Birth  of  the 
Virgin,"  190,  192,  234-41, 
328,  335,  352,  354,  376; 
"The  Disputa,"  257-61; 
"The  Last  Supper,"  46; 
"Madonna,"  260,  407; 
"Madonna  delle  Arpic," 
252,  255-61,  317,  339,  406, 
409;  "Madonna  with  Two 
SS.  John,"  406;  "The 
Madonna  del  Sacco,"  262- 
3;  "The  Madonna  with 
Eight  Saints,"  404;  "The 
Madonna  with  Six  Saints," 
260;  "The  Naming,  "250- 
1;  "The  Offering,"  250; 
Portraits,  266-72;  "The 
Preaching  of  John  the  Bap- 
tist," 243-46;  "The  Pro- 
cession of  the  Three  Kings,  " 
236,  267;  "St.  Agnes,"  264; 
"St.  John  the  Baptist," 
264-66;    "Salome  l.ancing 

.  before  Herod"  (1522),  248, 
249;  Scenes  from  the  Life 
of  San  Filippo  Benizzi,  236; 
"The  Visitation,"  250. 

Sebastiano  del  Piombo,  see 
Luciani. 

Signorelli,  Luca  (c.  1441-1523): 
Frescoes  at  Orvieto,  322, 
408. 

Sodoma,  "Scenes  from  the 
Life  of  the  Virgin,  "328. 

Solario,  Andrea  da  (c.  1460- 
aftcr  1515),  "The  Behead- 
ing" (1507).  60. 


436 


Index 


T 

Tibaldi,  P.,  "The  Adoration 

of  the  Shepherds,"  293. 
Titian,  see  Vecellio,  Tiziano. 

U 

Udine,  Giovanni  da,  see  Gio- 
vanni. 

V 

Vannucci,  Pietro  (II  Perugino 
or  Pietro  Perugino)  (1446- 
1523):  "Apollo  and  Mar- 
syas, "  52-3;  "Christ  De- 
livering the  Keys,"  120,  168, 
170;  "The  Entombment," 
119;  "Pieta,"  117,  122, 
2I9>  377>  41**;  "Portrait 
of  a  Man,"  186;  "Virgin 
Appearing  to  St.  Bernard," 
116,  214;  "The  Virgin  with 
SS.  Sebastian  and  John  the 
Baptist, "  1 14. 

Vasari,  "Venus,"  290-1. 

Vecellio,  Tiziano  (Titian) 
(1477-1576):  "The  Assump- 
tion," 206,  222;  "La  Bella," 
192;  "Danae, "  403;  "The 
Entombment,"  124;  "The 
Murder  of  Peter  Martyr," 
420-1 ;  "The  Presentation,  " 
287,  292;  "St.  Jerome," 
423-4;  "Venus, "  391-2. 

Venusti,  Marcello,  "The  An- 
nunciation" (c.  1580),  305. 


Verrocchio,  Andrea  del  (1435- 
1488):  "The  Baptism  of 
Christ,"  31,  113,  300-1; 
"Christ  and  St.  Thomas," 
20;  "Colleoni,"  19,  58,  281, 
342,  428;  "David,"  17-18 
76,347;  "Three  Archangels," 
339;  "Tobias"  (PBotticini), 
338-9. 

Vinci,  Leonardo  da  (1452- 
15 19):  "The  Adoration  of 
the  Magi,"  32-3,  197; 
Angel  in  Verrocchio' s  "Bap- 
tism,"31,  34;  "The  Battle 
of  Anghiari,"  57-9;  "John 
the  Baptist,"  379;  "The 
Last  Supper,"  29,  38-47, 
54,  146,  307,  324,  373,  374, 
377,  415;  "Leda,"  61;  "The 
Madonna  of  the  Rocks, "  31 , 
55-7;  "The  Madonna  with 
St.  Anne,"  129;  "Mora 
Lisa,"  36,  47~53>  113,  186; 
"St.  Anne  with  the  Virgin 
and  the  Infant  Christ,"  53- 
5.  385 ;  "St.  Jerome  with  the 
Lion,"  32;  "St.  John,"  61; 
"Study  of  a  Girl's  Head," 
37,  49. 

Volterra,  Daniele  da,  "Mas- 
sacre of  the  Innocents," 
417. 

Z 

Zampieri,  Domenico  (Dom- 
enichino),  "The  Deliver- 
ance of  St.  Peter,"  159-60. 


Ji  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


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